Lose Yourself
by Tari Seregon
Summary: She's not supposed to love him. She's not supposed to care. She's not supposed to live her life wishing he was there . . . (Many previous titles - most recently: "No One Ever Said It Would Be This Tough)
1. Lost

"_I'd rather spend but a lifetime with you than face all the ages of this world alone."_

_Arwen Evenstar_

**One**

My whole life, he has acknowledged me as Hermione, the know-it-all; Hermione, the Muggle-Born whom Malfoy makes fun of; Hermione, the bookworm. It was never anything more than that. I didn't want to love him as more than what I did. I didn't want to give him a reason to love me back. I guess everything took over and I lost myself in my quest.

When we first met, I was only eleven – a First-Year on the Hogwarts Express, waiting to begin my magical journey from Muggle to Witch. I had been annoyed by him, with his dirt on his nose. But as I began to "hang out" with him more, I got to know him better. The only problem was that the better I got to know him and the more I started to like him, the more he drifted away from me.

"No, stop, stop. You're going to take someone's eye out. Besides, you're saying it wrong. It's _Levi-oh-sah_, not _Levi-oh-sar_," I corrected him one day during Charms.

"Well, you do it, then, if you're so clever. Go on, go on!" he commanded.

I whipped out my wand and pointed it at the feather in front of me. With a swish and a flick of the wrist, I said, "_Wingardium Leviosa,_" and the feather rose higher and higher off the table. As Professor Flitwick complimented my spell, I smirked at him triumphantly. He just sat there, folded his arms, and pouted. I had been so glad to defy him, but he _had_ to take it and blow it up so it was a huge deal.

"'It's _Levi-oh-sah_, not _Levi-oh-sar._' She's a nightmare, honesty! No wonder she hasn't got any friends!" he said that day, jeering at me. The boys around him, Harry, Seamus, Dean and Neville, all laughed. I ran into him as I walked by, tears streaming down my face.

"I think she heard you," was all anyone said before they were joking and laughing again. It was lie they didn't even care about my feelings or anything.

But that night, they saved me from the Troll. I could've been killed if they hadn't come to save me. Mind you, if he hadn't made fun of me, I wouldn't have been in the bathroom to begin with, but still, it was heroic nonetheless. And after that incident, he, Harry and I became friends.

In our second year, I began to notice that something more was going on. Sure, I was young, I was naïve, but I was able to recognize when I had a crush on a guy and when I didn't. But unfortunately, I wasn't really around long enough to make him notice. A little more than halfway through the year, I was petrified by the stupid Basilisk.

I can't tell you I saw him at all the rest of the year, because I didn't see anything. It was weird being petrified. I had my thoughts and I thought about everything. And sometimes, I could tell that someone was there. It was as though I was blind and deaf at the same time, and had no sensory nerves anywhere in my body, but I could tell when someone was there. I didn't know who it was or what they were doing, but they somehow sent off these vibrations that informed me of their presence.

So since I knew no one could disturb or read my thoughts, I decided to think through how I'd been feeling the last few months about him.

Over that summer when I had gone into my second year, I had thought a lot about him and the rest of my first year. I still couldn't believe that Harry had, once again, escaped Lord V – He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. _How_ did he _do it?_ It was inconceivable in my mind. And what was more inconceivable was that Vol – He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named – hadn't gotten the Stone.

However, the most prominent thing in my mind was the way I had felt about him. Being only eleven, I hadn't ever felt like this towards anyone before. Being the insufferable know-it-all that I am, I had few friends in Muggle School. All of a sudden, I had two amazing friends, and one of them seemed a little more important than the other. Whenever we were alone, I felt all tingly, and I suddenly wished that my hair wasn't so puffy or that my front teeth were smaller. The worst part was that he didn't seem to feel the same way. Or did he?

After I was unpetrified at the end of my Second Year, he, Harry and I fulfilled the rest of the year in peace. They seemed to enjoy my presence a little more, especially since I had been gone for so long. Even though I was thoroughly disappointed at the cancellation of the End-of-the-Year exams, I was happier than I'd ever been.

When Harry left to go back to his home with the Dursleys that year, I ran to him and gave him a huge hug.

"There's no way we would have done anything we did this year without you, Hermione," he said.

"Oh, it's no problem, really. It's what I do. I research things, put them in the miscellaneous department in my brain until they are of use, and put them to work when I need them," I replied, smiling. I hugged him again and said, "Promise you'll write to me. It stunk this summer when I didn't know how you were."

"I will, Hermione, don't worry. I won't have anything better to do, now that the Dursleys hate me for escaping in the flying car. Good-bye."

I watched him walk away, pulling his trunk over to where three grave-looking Muggles stood – a fat man, his thin wife, and their abominable son – and then turned away to bid farewell to my other friend.

He grinned slightly and said, "I'm so glad you're alright. Seriously, Hermione, after you were petrified, Harry and I were devastated. We weren't sure if we'd ever see you alive again."

"Well, you know me. I'm a trooper," I joked.

He looked at the ground, then back up at me and said, "We'll really miss – I mean, I'll really miss you, Hermione."

I loved the way he said my name. It was soft and gentle, like he wanted to take good care of it.

"Come on, dear, we don't have all day!" his mother called.

"I have to go. I'll see you next year. Don't forget to write to me, Hermione," he commanded.

"Me? Forget to write? I'm the one who should be saying that to _you_," I laughed. For a second, we stood there, unsure of how to say good-bye. Should we wave? Should we shake hands? I didn't know. So I just went with what my instinct told me.

I flung my arms around him and hugged him. And it was good.

"Good-bye, Hermione," he called, pulling away his trunk and following behind his mother, sister, and three older brothers.

"Good-bye!" I called back, waving to him.

The last thing I saw was his flaming red hair fading into the distance. And I watched him there, from Platform 9 ¾, saying to myself, "I'll really miss you, too, Ron Weasley."


	2. Dark Corners

**Two**

That summer was torment for me. I spent it in France, where romance was in the air. Everywhere I turned, I saw something that reminded me of Ron. If I could have rid myself of him, I would have, but I couldn't.

And right now you are probably thinking that I am some obsessive compulsive stalker freak, but I'm not. It's just that he's different. And I can't help but pray that he'll be mine again someday.

Yes, again.

Because in my third year, something extraordinary happened.

"Hermione, may I . . . er, speak with you a moment?" Ron asked one day, the day before we were about to go to Hogsmeade. At this point in time, Harry was hoping that he could get his permission slip signed by Professor McGonagall, and I was putting on a show that I hoped so, too. Don't get me wrong, I loved Harry's company, it's just that I'm _never_ alone with Ron – it's always me, alone, studying and Ron and Harry hanging out together, and when that wasn't the case, it was me, Ron _and_ Harry. He is great company and he's like a brother to me, but at the same time, it's sort of like the brother that won't go away but you can't help but love him anyways.

"Yeah, of course, Ron," I said. He grabbed my arm and began to drag me over to a small corner, but turned around and said to Harry, "Be right back," before doing so.

"Well, Hermione, I was just thinking . . . d'you think McGonagall will actually let Harry go to Hogsmeade without having his form signed?" he queried.

I sighed and said, "To be perfectly honest, no. I mean, it's _Professor McGonagall_, Ron. Has she ever been known to break the rules? She's not Harry's parent or guardian. Even though all of the teachers have a soft spot for him, it's not like she'll go out of her way and do things for him that she wouldn't do for others. Professor Dumbledore might, but not Professor McGonagall, especially right now, what with Sirius Black on the loose and all."

"Yeah, that's what I thought, too," Ron said simply. Was it just me, or did I see a flicker of relief on his face?

After a moment of silence, he broke the stillness by saying, "Er, we better get back to Harry. He's probably wondering where we went and what we were doing there."

I was thoroughly disappointed. I had hoped that he was going to say something along the lines of, "Do you want to stop in that café place with all of the little cherubs and stuff?" It wasn't exactly a place a guy would like, though – it was basically a café for couples, were little enchanted naked babies flew around and threw stuff down on your heads, like little cut-out hearts. In fact, it was fairly stupid, but for a girl, it meant a lot – any guy who took her there was fairly devoted.

But, of course, he said nothing of the sort.

The whole rest of the day, we waited anxiously to see if Harry was going to be allowed to go to Hogsmeade. After Transfiguration, he went up to ask Professor McGonagall if she could sign it for him. Ron and I waited outside with bated breath. His breath was bated because he wanted Harry to come. Mine was bated because I didn't.

After he came outside, he had a somber look on his face.

"Damn that Professor," he murmured.

"Harry!" I scolded. "What did she say?"

"Take a wild guess," he said irritably.

"I'm sorry mate. It won't be the same without you," Ron said.

Harry sighed. "It's alright, guys. Just go ahead on your own. You can fill me in later."

That whole night, my heart was pounding in my ears in anticipation. Finally, an entire day alone with Ron! And it could happen maybe _every visit for the rest of our Hogwarts careers!_ Of course, I had to try and hide my emotions – if either Ron or Harry noticed, I could lose my best friends. But, you know, that was just my luck.

The next day, I tried not to overdo my choice of clothing, but I didn't dress in crap, either. I picked something cute and comfortable, brushed out my hair, and pulled it back so it didn't fly in my face.

As I walked out into the Common Room, I was greeted by Ron, who was smiling, and Harry, who wasn't.

"I hope you guys have fun," he mumbled.

"Not as much as if we were with you," I half-lied.

"Yeah. Wish you could come, mate," Ron added.

As if he had just remembered, Harry said, "Oh, Hermione, could I speak with you a moment?"

"Yeah, I suppose so . . ." I said. For the second time in two days, I was lead into a quiet corner, where no one could hear us.

"I just wanted to warn you – Ron's sort of been waiting for this day for, like, a year now, and he's so excited. So if he does anything that makes you feel uncomfortable, don't freak out, alright?" he said quickly.

"What do you mean?" I asked, raising one eyebrow.

"If he, you know, does anything – like if he tries to hold your hand or something –"

"Wait – why would he do that?" I said.

Harry sighed and whispered, "He likes you, Hermione. I can't believe you haven't noticed. But anyways, now that you're alone, he might do things he never thought he would have the chance to, so . . . just be warned."

And with that, Harry walked away.

I just stood there, my mouth partly open, staring at where he used to stand. I must have looked like an idiot, but I didn't care. I was too happy to care.


	3. Hogsmeade

**Three**

Once we had waved good-bye to Harry, we began heading towards Hogsmeade. Something was in the air that made me even more excited. I had no idea that something like this was going to happen. In fact, I had spent the summer praying for it. I guess I had prayed right.

Anyways, as we walked on, Ron was marveling at everything the stores at Hogsmeade had to offer – Zonko's Joke Shop, which was where Fred and George spent all of their time; Honeyduke's Sweet Shop, whichwas where we spent most of our time; and of course, the Three Broomsticks, where we went later on to get some Butterbeer.

We walked into the small pub and instantly,I smelled cheerful and happy, a drunken smell. It wasn't uncomfortable, but warm and inviting. We went up to the bar and waited for someone to come and serve us. An attractive lady arrived after a few moments and asked, "Welcome to the Three Broomsticks, I'm Madam Rosmerta. What can I get for you?"

Ron stuttered a little before I elbowed him. I could tell that he was falling for her. I hated her for that, but I decided to make a joke out of it, just to piss him off.

"Er, two Butterbeers, please, miss," he stammered.

"Coming right up," she said, and walked off.

After she had gone, I turned to him, smirking broadly and said, "Ooh, Ron, what dirty thoughts are running through your mind right now?"

"What are you talking about Hermione? I'm perfectly fine," he retorted.

"Yeah, sure. I've seen love struck guys before. You're sitting there, your mouth half open, and you can't talk." I reached out and felt his palm. "Yep, you're sweating, too."

"Oh, shut up, Hermione. It's not like _your_ palms haven't ever sweat before," he snapped as she came back with the Butterbeers. If Ron had only felt my palms right then, he would have easily been able to prove himself right.

"Here you go, you two lovebirds," Rosmerta said. I put on my best horrorstruck face.

"What?!" Ron cried.

"No, no, no. You must be mistaken. There is _no way_ I would ever go out with Ronald," I said quickly.

"Sure, whatever you say," she said, sneering. She turned around and walked away, still grinning at our innocence.

"Honestly, how on Earth could she go meddling into our relationships like that? How rude!" For added affect, I muttered under my breath, "Ew!" Ron, however, remained silent.

When we were about to leave, I pulled out my purse to pay for the Butterbeer, but Ron stopped me, by placing his hand on mine.

"It's alright. It's on me," he said, reaching for his money.

My heart still pounding, I said, "Oh, come on, Ron, you don't have to pay for me. It's not like we're dating or anything."

Ron said nothing, but continued to count out the money for the two tankards.

Once we had left the pub and were well out of earshot, I whispered, "Honestly, Ron, you didn't have to pay for the Butterbeer. I can completely handle it myself. Besides, that only further proved that we were going out."

"Just chill out, will you? All I did was pay for a three-sickle Butterbeer! Why does it matter?" he hissed.

"It just does, alright?" I hissed back. I was, of course, inwardly flattered, but he couldn't know that.

"Come on, let's go over here. I have to talk to you for a minute," he said in barely more than a whisper.

"Oh-kay . . ." I trailed off. He grabbed my hand and pulled me over to a small clearing in the forest, so far away that the babble of the wizarding town could barely be heard.

"Alright, let me set something straight. I do _not_ fancy Madam Rosmerta! Sure, she's nice-looking, but it's not like I'd have a chance anyways! I'd have a better chance with someone like . . . someone like you, even!" he said.

"What, are you saying you don't think you have a chance with me? And anyways, do you even _want_ a chance with me?" I asked, sounding a little more excited than I wanted. I knew where this was going – I was just trying to steer it in the right direction.

"No, I didn't say that! I just said . . . that even if I _did_ want a chance, which I don't, it would be easier to get with you than with her, which is saying something!" he stated.

"Well, why would it be hard to get with me in the first place?"

"Because, Hermione, just because. I mean, how do you think our friendship would be affected if Harry found out? He'd feel left out – not that he wants a love trio or anything, but how would _you_ feel if your two best friends were going out with each other? Especially if we started spending a ton of time together.

"And also, there's the Malfoy factor. He hates me as is, because of what my Dad does, and he hates you because you're a Muggle-born. Think about how horrible it would be if he found out about us going out.

"And what if we broke up, especially if it was because it was a fight or something? Things like that will make two people never speak to each other again. What would _that_ do to our friendship? Harry would be caught in the middle of us sitting there, not speaking to each other. He would be the neutral party, and we might even start to hate him because he associates with the other. Don't you get it, Hermione? It just wouldn't work."

I sat there and stared at him for a moment before saying, "Wow, Ron. That sounds like something _I_ would take the time to think out."

"I know – I thought about it a lot," Ron said. Then he slapped his hand to his mouth and murmured, "Shit, I probably shouldn't have said that."

"No, probably not," I replied, hands on my hips. He closed his eyes and muttered something under his breath that sounded like more curses. So I continued, "But don't feel bad. I've thought about it a lot, as well."

He opened his eyes. "What?"

"I've been wrestling with the idea for about a year now, and the thing is, I think you're right. But I can't help but think about you all the time," I said, all very quickly. I was afraid that if I didn't say it all at once, I'd run out of gas.

"You mean . . . you've felt the same way the whole time?" he asked, completely stunned.

"Perhaps a bit longer," I confessed.

"Have you told _anyone?_" he pursued.

"No."

"Not a soul?"

"None besides my own."

"Why me?"

"Because."

"Because why?"

"Because, alright?" I said, almost screaming. "It's just something about you. It's, like, your quirky cuteness, I dunno. Well, also, I guess it might just be because there's nothing more attractive to someone than something they can't have. And I guess I've known that the whole time, but I've tried to block it out of my mind.

"You've always been there – except for those first few months when you hated me in the First Year – but even then, you came to rescue me when I was about to be clubbed to death. And I mean, Harry's great and all, but he's not my type. I guess that you could say opposites attract, Ron, seeing as we pretty much are opposites."

"I guess you could say that . . ." he said. He took a step closer to me. My heartbeat quickened. He reached out and took my hand. Laughing, he said, "Your palms are sweating."

In that one moment, it was like everything around me had changed. It no longer mattered what the risks were. I no longer cared who saw, or what they thought. I simply stepped closer to him, just as he had done to me, took his hand, and said, "So are yours." And you know what I did then?

I kissed him.

And he was damn good at it. And I was perfectly happy. That is, until I heard the leaves rustle in the trees behind us.

I pulled away from him and snapped my head around to see who it was. "Who's there?" I called. No one answered. No one popped out from behind the trees.

Ron squeezed my hand. Gently, he touched my cheek and turned my head so I was looking back up at him.

"Never you mind, Hermione," he whispered. And so I didn't. Again, I kissed him. And again, he was damn good at it. And again, I was perfectly happy, until I heard more leaves rustling.

"That's it, who's there?" I shouted, making him jump. This time, however, someone did pop out from behind the trees.

"Neville, what are you doing?" Ron yelled.

"I'm sorry!" he said apologetically. "I just heard people yelling earlier, and I came to see who it was, and by the time I got here, you weren't yelling anymore, and you were kissing instead, and . . . wait a second – Hermione? Why were you kissing Ron? Does Harry know about this?"

I ran up to Neville, so quickly that it made him jump, and said, "Listen, Neville." I pointed my wand at his throat, to make myself seem a bit more menacing. "Harry will not hear a word of this, will he?"

"You wouldn't curse me, would you?" he asked, shaking. I felt bad for the kid, so I lowered my wand.

"Of course not, Neville. I just wanted to emphasize the importance of this. But if you let _one word_ of this slip to Harry, I will curse you, got that?" I said.

"Got it," he said, still shaking. "But what I don't understand is why you two were kissing."

At this point, Ron stepped in. "Hmm, let's think on this one. Maybe because we like each other?"

Neville raised his eyebrows, but said, "Alright, I get it. It just seems a bit weird to me. I mean, what happens if Harry finds out?"

"He won't, though," I said, calmly at first. However, at the end, I added menacingly, "_Will he?_"

"Of c-course n-n-not!" he stuttered. "I'll j-just leave n-now."

"You do that," Ron said with a dissmissave wave of his hand. Neville threw us one last questioning look before turning and sprinting away.

I turned back to Ron. "Did you see his face when you pointed your wand at him?" he asked.

"Yes, and quite frankly, I feel a bit sorry for him. I hope I didn't scare him too much," I said.

"Not too much," he replied. We continued walking towards each other, and when we met in the middle, he wrapped his arms around my waist and said, "Now, where were we?"


	4. Confrontations

**Four**

I have to say, although it was something, it was kind of a sucky relationship. After all, since we didn't want it leaking to Harry, Ron could never hold my hand or anything, for fear that someone else would tell on us. And therefore, he couldn't kiss me all the time either, because we had to be somewhere where people wouldn't see. And considering the fact that this was Hogwarts, there was pretty much nowhere that that would work.

Anyways, after we emerged from the clearing, we made it look like nothing had ever happened. We simply walked through Hogsmeade, admiring the newest additions to the Quidditch Stores and the dazzling array of tricks in Zonko's. We went to Honeyduke's and got some stuff for Harry – I got him a Sugar Quill, being the practical bookworm that I am, and Ron got him some Fizzing Whizbees. Of course, our day wouldn't be over without a surprise visit.

"Oh, look who it is – Granger and Weaselbee," sneered Malfoy as we walked out of Honeyduke's, our money bags considerably lighter.

"Eh, piss off, Malfoy," said Ron irritably.

"Ooh, feeling a little venomous today, are we?" Malfoy sniggered. Crabbe and Goyle laughed stupidly.

"Ooh, feeling like a bastard today, are we? Oh, right – I forgot that you're already a bastard everyday," I retorted.

Malfoy squared his jaw and stared me straight in the eye. "You better pray for a miracle, Mudblood. Nothing can save you now."

"Call her a mudblood one more time, Malfoy, just one more time. Go on, I dare you," Ron hissed, beckoning him forward.

"Alright then," Malfoy scoffed. He gave us a defying smirk and said, quite loudly, "Hermione Granger, you are a filthy, disgusting, vile little Mudblood, and I hope you don't live to see tomorrow."

I could have sworn that I saw steam coming from Ron's ears. He drew back his wand, aiming right at Malfoy, and –

Malfoy laughed.

"You couldn't hit the side of a barn, Weasley."

"Just try me," Ron sneered. _"Rictusempra!"_

And with that, Malfoy was spun in the air. He banged his head against a tree, knocking him unconscious. Goyle and Crabbe looked at Ron in horror and ran to comfort their master.

"Damn it, did that feel good!" Ron screamed into the sky. My hands were still on his shoulders. "Hermione, could you please stop digging your fingernails into my skin?"

"Oh, sorry," I said quickly, releasing my grip.


	5. Weights

**Five**

After that day at Hogsmeade, I thought I was all set – all I had to do was keep it a secret from Harry and Ron and I were golden.

You cannot possibly imagine how wrong we were.

It was so weird – all of a sudden, Ron and I started fighting constantly. He kept blaming poor Crookshanks, my cat, for chasing away his stupid rat, Scabbers. I mean, I know that he's a cat and it's his nature and everything, but it's not like he can help it! I preferred for the insolent little beast to be out of my sight, anyways. It was absolutely disgusting and grimy, and it looked as though it had been through way too much. It had been in Ron's family for twelve years, and had belonged to many of the Weasley children before it had been passed down to him. It was an unusually long life for a common sewer rat, so I had no idea how it had lived that long. It was also missing a toe, which for some reason creeped me out. I had a strong feeling that Crookshanks was doing Scabbers a favor by putting him out of his misery.

Wait, what am I saying? Crookshanks did nothing to the filthy creature!

Anyways, the rest of the year, we were bickering over our pets, and being way too defensive. At least, Ron was.

Of course, besides the whole problem with our pets, Sirius Black was still at large. The murderous man had escaped from Azkaban somehow, and he was headed towards Hogwarts to find Harry. The dementors, the guards of Azkaban, were stationed around every entrance to the school. Therefore, it was impossible to get outside with Ron for a midnight walk or something, or even just to find somewhere to talk to him.

And on top of that, we were all worried about Harry. It was terrifying to think that his killer could be right outside the doors of the castle, waiting in the Forbidden Forest for him to stupidly make a wrong turn. And Ron seemed to notice my concern, and even take it as something else.

He took me by the arm one day and dragged me into an empty classroom. "Hermione, what is going on with you?" he asked sharply.

"Me? What about you? Suddenly, every kind thing I say to Harry you take it the wrong way. Actually, any time I talk about another guy, you take it the wrong way. I had thought I was set for life. But now I'm not so sure. This is proving to be much more difficult than we anticipated," I said.

Ron sighed and looked at the ground, defeated. "Maybe this wasn't what we thought it was," he whispered.

"Maybe we weren't ready," I whispered back.

"Maybe we should . . ." he trailed off.

"Break up," we said in unison.

We both looked up at each other. Only moments ago, I had been hoping he was taking me in here to kiss him. Now I was looking up at my ex-boyfriend. And for some odd reason, I felt as though a huge weight had been lifted off my chest, and yet replaced by a new one – a familiar one.

So I stood there with him, in that empty classroom, and wondered, "Where did the magic go?"

That same night, we ventured out to the grounds and watched the execution of Buckbeak, the beloved Hippogriff whom we had grown to love. As I watched the executioner raise his axe, my eyes filled with tears. I kept them open long enough to see it come down, and to see the birds around him scatter.

"Buckbeak," I murmured, wrapping my arms around Ron's neck and crying into his shoulder. He stood there, watching where the beast had stood, not blinking. Harry put a hand on my arm to calm me down.

"Scabbers!" Ron suddenly hissed. I let go of him, and he took the rat from his pocket. He was squirming madly, and in a second, he had bit Ron's hand and ran off.

"He bit me!" Ron cried. "Scabbers, come back! It's alright, you stupid rat!" He ran off after him, straight over to the Whomping Willow.

And so began the historic night when we found Sirius Black, discovered Professor Lupin's secret, and let Peter Pettigrew escape. In addition, Harry and I went back in time, saved Buckbeak and Sirius, and let them go free.

After all of that excitement, regular life seemed quite boring and uneventful. All of our cuts and bruises, and in Ron's case, his broken leg, were healed, and we returned to work for the remainder of the year. Gryffindor won the house cup in addition to the Quidditch Cup. If it hadn't been for the earlier events in the year, I would have been able to freely say that it was the best year I had ever had.

Saying good-bye was harder than ever that year. Harry's good-bye was fairly normal, except for the fact that he was a little disappointed that he would be going to live with the Dursleys instead of his rightful godfather, Sirius, who had asked him to stay with him after he was declared a free man.

"Sirius will be alright, Harry," I said quietly before he turned to leave.

He smiled weakly and replied, "Thanks for your help, Hermione. Once again, I couldn't have done it without you."

And with that, he turned and left.

I looked to Ron, who was slowly trying to close his trunk, his owl, Pigwidgeon, flying around his head. I could tell he was trying to stall for time before his mother called to him.

I approached him slowly, and he looked up at me.

"Well? Aren't you going to say good-bye to me?" I asked hopefully.

He sighed and said, "I'm sorry for everything that happened this year. I enjoyed it while it lasted, but I don't know what happened."

"Me neither," I replied, at an utter loss for words.

"Let's just . . . well, let's promise each other not to repeat the events of this year in any other way, shape or form." He extended his hand for me to shake it. I, however, was not going to shake his hand. I hugged him so closely that I was afraid I was going to suffocate him.

When we withdrew from each other, I softly kissed his cheek. "Good-bye, Ron," I said.

"Good-bye, Hermione."

For the third time, I watched him walk away with his family, his flaming red hair fading into the distance. I slowly began to recognize what I was feeling the night that we had broken up, that weight in my stomach that seemed fairly familiar. It was the same weight as I had felt before he had kissed me, the one that was taunting me, jeering at me, telling me that he was way out of reach and he would never feel the same way about me as I did him.

And this time, I knew the weight was not going to go away.


	6. Changes

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of these characters. Also, the dialogue between the marks belongs to JK Rowling.

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**Six**

That summer was even more torturous than the previous ones. I spent the whole summer going through the events of the previous year, wondering what went wrong. Why did he accuse me of such things? What did I do to make him stop loving me? Where did I make a wrong turn and stride off the path? More importantly to me, was he feeling the same way?

Somehow, I felt that he wasn't regretting this at all.

I came back to school that year a bit sadder and wiser than the Hermione everyone else knew. I couldn't let it show, though. So I pretended nothing was wrong, and I wasn't bleeding inside.

I was quite bored with the year until Viktor Krum came to the school. A 17-year-old Quidditch player from Durmstrang, he was quite handsome, strong, and popular. You could barely get near him the first day because so many people were around him, trying to get his autograph – Ron included.

Ron, Harry, and some of the Weasleys had gone to the Quidditch World Cup that year, in which Krum had participated. Krum was Ron's idol, pretty much. Ron hoped to be a Quidditch player, but had a lot to live up to since he had so many older brothers who all had made great achievements. Charlie was on the Gryffindor Quidditch team when he was in school; Bill was a wonderful student, as was Percy (who had been Head Boy last year, much to Ron's discontent). Even though Fred and George goofed off all the time, they were still good students and were the Beaters on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. There wasn't really anything for Ron to do that hadn't already been done, unless he did everything at once.

Not only did he have competition with his brothers, but he always felt like he was one step behind Harry on the popularity issue. Everyone knew who Harry was, and Harry always had some exciting story to tell. He always felt like the uninteresting one, the one that everyone thought was fairly cool, but no Harry. Ron wanted to be like Krum so badly, because he wanted to be better at something than his brothers and his best friend.

To me, he was. But no one could know that.

"Did you see him? It's _Viktor Krum_. Can you believe it? _Viktor Krum!_" You could see the excitement in his eyes. I knew Ron was excited about this guy.

"Yes, Ronald, I saw him. Now, will you stop talking about him so much? Quite frankly, it's getting a little annoying," I said. Ron scowled at me.

Little did I know that Krum was going to get even greater involvement in my life.

Viktor had been invited to the Hogwarts along with the rest of his school, Durmstrang Academy, to participate in the Triwizard Tournament. The three schools – Hogwarts, Durmstrang, and Beauxbaton, the French Wizarding Academy – selected a representative from their school to compete in exciting games and fight for the Triwizard Cup. When the representatives were chosen, Krum was selected from his school, a Veela girl named Fleur Delacor was selected from Beauxbaton, and there were two representatives from Hogwarts – Cedric Diggory and Harry Potter.

As part of the tradition of the Triwizard Tournament, there was a Yule Ball, to be held on Christmas. I hadn't been expecting to get a date. I mean, me? Hermione Granger? Get a date? But I was surprised that it wasn't long before I was already taken.

Ron and Harry, however, had much more trouble than I did. Part of the problem was that they were too chicken to ask anyone. The other part of it, though, was that they had waited until the last minute, and everyone else was already taken. So when I walked into the room while Harry and Ron were discussing ideas for people to go with, all hell broke loose.

"Why weren't you at dinner?" I demanded.

"Because – oh, shut up laughing, you two – because they've both just been turned down by girls they asked to the ball!" Ginny blurted out.

"Thanks a bunch, Ginny," said Ron. I sort of felt bad for them, but there was nothing I could do. I was laughing internally at their change in behavior.

"All the good-looking ones taken, Ron? Eloise Midgen starting to look quite pretty now, isn't she? Well, I'm sure you'll find _someone_ who'll have you," I said, suppressing a laugh.

"Hermione, Neville's right – you _are_ a girl . . ." he murmured.

"Oh, well spotted," I retorted.

"Well, you can come with one of us!" Ron cried excitedly.

"No I can't!"

Ron sighed and said, "Oh, come on, we need partners, we're going to look really stupid if we haven't got any, everyone else has . . ."

I blushed, saying, "I can't come with you because I'm already going with someone else."

"No you're not! You just said that to get rid of Neville!"

"Oh, _did_ I? Just because it's taken _you_ three years to notice, Ron, doesn't mean no one _else_ has spotted I'm a girl!" I said acidly.

He looked at me, smirking, and said, "Okay, okay, we know you're a girl. That do? Will you come now?"

"I've already told you! I'm going with someone else!"

With that, I stomped out of the room, absolutely enraged. How come he didn't believe me? After all, it was only last year that he had liked me. Was it so hard to believe that I got a date?

I spent the whole rest of the year arguing with Ron, pretty much. I noticed that his obsessions with Viktor went downhill from that day on. Once he saw me at the dance with him, he seemed to hate the guy. Matters only worsened when he accused me of "fraternizing with the enemy." Harry, of course, had no objection, but I was quite offended. I was _not_ and had no intentions of fraternizing with the enemy. Besides, it had been a friendly school competition, and it was to induce brotherhood and all that stuff. Fraternizing with the enemy! Honestly!

The end of the year was devastating for all of us – that was the year that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was brought back to power, and Harry watched Cedric Diggory die at his feet. He won the Triwizard Tournament, but many people were mad at him and thought that it was his fault that Diggory was dead. Not to mention that when Harry told all the officials that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had risen again, they all thought he was crazy except for Dumbledore.

That summer, I spent some of it at home, but about half of it was spent at the Headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix with the Weasleys. It was fairly uneventful, but once Harry got back from the Dursleys, he was mad at all of us.

Our fifth year was fairly uneventful, in terms of Ron's and my relationship. We quarreled every so often, and I continued writing to Viktor (much to Ron's contempt).

At the end of the year, Sirius fell beyond the black veil. In other words, he died. It was a horrible end to the year. It was bad enough that Diggory had died last year, but we barely knew him. Sirius' death, on the other hand, was completely disturbing – we had known him for a couple years, and even though he was innocent, he had never been proclaimed a free man. That was probably what disturbed me the most.

My sixth year was absolutely and completely uneventful. It was like our fifth year – random quarrels here and there, but no real fun and nothing of importance or significance.

That summer, there was a huge change in me. I don't know what triggered it, but something changed. Ron had done nothing abnormal, nothing to show me that he still cared. And yet, here I was, almost four years after we had gotten together and broken up, and I did. I resolved that I had to do something.

Not only did I change emotionally – I changed physically as well. Up until then, I had been an average-looking girl. Nothing special, nothing to write home about. But suddenly, I . . . blossomed. Everywhere, all the changes that were supposed to be done and over by now were finishing up. Even my hair changed – it lost its puff, so it was still wavy, but not bushy. I was amazed by the changes that had been made, especially knowing that it was all natural.

With my new plan in action and the new me, I couldn't wait for my seventh year to begin.


	7. Reactions

**Disclaimer: **I don't own any of these characters.

**Seven**

I was late to the Hogwarts Express the beginning of my seventh year at Hogwarts. That was okay with me. I wanted to surprise them both at once, instead of having them see me before I got on the train. Somehow, I thought it would be more dramatic that way.

I was almost too late, though. I pretty much had to throw my bag on the train and jump on while it was moving or I would have missed it. I was completely flustered once I was on, but I was on. I heaved my trunk, with Crookshanks spitting at me, and tried to find the compartment in which Ron and Harry were sitting.

It took awhile to find them, because they were pretty much at the complete opposite end of the train. That, again, was alright – I wanted to build up the suspense. But inside, my heart was fluttering. How would they react when they saw the new me? Would they freak? Would they stare at me like a reject? Was it just my imagination, and I didn't really look all that great after all, and they would welcome me no less or more friendly than before? It was a mixture of angst and excitement, but I was about to find out.

I peeked my head around the corner and saw through the window a patch of flaming red. A bright light flashed in my eyes as the light from Harry's glasses and the light outside reflecting off of them. I knew I was in the right place. I took a deep breath and slid open the door to the compartment.

"Hermio –" Ron began, sounding relieved. But then he stopped and looked me up and down. Harry was doing the same. They exchanged sideways glances before Ron finally spoke. "Hermione?"

"Hey guys," I said, still standing in the doorframe.

"Wow," Harry murmured.

I pretended to be puzzled and said, "What?"

"Hermione . . . you've grown!" Ron exclaimed.

I raised one eyebrow and asked, "Is that a good thing?"

Harry was the first one to break from his trance. He shook his head slightly and said, "Come on, sit down."

I walked over and gingerly sat down next to Ron, whose eyes had followed me the whole way there. He still hadn't stopped staring at me.

"What is with you, Ron?" I asked, waving my hand in front of his face. He reached out to stop me, grabbing my hand. I jumped. This action was completely unexpected. But it was perfectly okay with me.

"Will you stop it? I'm just surprised, alright? You look so . . . different," he said. We had lowered our arms, but he was still holding my hand. I looked down, and he did as well. We looked away from each other and let go.

"Do I really look different?" I asked, waiting for a response. Either of their responses would be alright.

"Yeah, you do. You look . . ." Harry began, but stopped, unable to find the right word.

It came from beside me, but I hadn't expected it at all.

"Beautiful."

I looked over at Ron, my eyes wide. He was just staring at me. It wasn't the same stare as before – that was a stare of awe and mystery. This stare was more infatuation, amazement. I liked it.

It was Harry who broke the silence by saying, "So, how were both of your summers?"

In order to describe my excitement, I pointed to the Head Girl badge pinned to my shirt.

"_You're_ Head Girl?" Ron asked.

"Yes, I can't believe it! The only downside is that I won't be with you guys in the dormitories – the Head Boy and Girl share a dormitory in another part of the castle."

"What?" Harry cried.

"Will you be able to get in the Common Room?" Ron asked anxiously.

"Of course I will," I said. "I'm still a Gryffindor, aren't I? I'm just a Gryffindor who happens to be Head Girl."

"Who's Head Boy?" Harry queried.

"Oh, I don't know yet. I suppose I'll find that out tonight when I go to bed."

"When you _what_?" Ron asked. My mouth dropped open at his insinuations.

"Oh, come on, Ron, you know what I meant."

We chatted all through the ride to Hogwarts, but I couldn't help but notice that Ron kept looking at me out of the corner of his eye.

Once we arrived there, I stepped out of the train with Ron and Harry. Instantaneously, Seamus walked by, his jaw dropping.

"_Hermione_?" he asked.

"Hey," I responded with a smile.

All the people who knew me from before stopped to look at me. I felt like a piece of artwork on display. People's eyes widened at the sight of me, guys jaws dropped when I passed by. Even Hagrid said something.

"Hey, Hagrid!" Harry called. The half giant turned to look at us.

"Hello!" he called back, quickly striding over to us, pretty much running over a couple first-years in the process. "How are yeh – Hermione?"

"Hello, Hagrid," I said cheerily.

"Hermione, you look wonderful!" he cried. He was just as surprised as everyone else was.

Smiling, I said, "Thank you, Hagrid." We turned and continued towards the carriages that carried us to the school.

Once we arrived at the school, we joined the huge crowd traveling towards the Great Hall. Since there were so many people in the crowd, it was harder for people to see me, so I didn't get as many compliments. Near the front, I saw Malfoy and his cronies. I smirked to myself. His reaction would be the most hilarious of all.

While we made our way down the aisles to the Gryffindor Table, I made sure to pass by Malfoy. Just as we did, I felt something brush against my leg. I looked down, disgusted to see that he was pawing at my skirt.

"Watch it, you jerk!" I said acidly, turning to look at him.

I would die to watch that again. The look on his face when he saw who he was flirting with was absolutely hysterical.

"Granger?" he shouted.

"Yeah?" I said, smirking.

"What happened to you over the summer?" he asked, his eyes traveling up and down my body. I simply scoffed at him and continued towards the Gryffindor table.

"Did you see his face? Hermione, he was playing with your skirt! He didn't even recognize you!" Ron exclaimed as we sat down.

"Not like it matters. Did you see how sour his face was when he noticed it was me?" I continued.

"Well, yes, but he thought you were some new girl or something. Hermione, you have options!" Harry said, just loud enough for Ron and I to hear.

Dumbledore stepped up to the platform, ready for the beginning-of-the-year announcements.

"Welcome to another eventful year at Hogwarts!" he bellowed, his eyes twinkling with excitement. "As usual, I would like to remind you that the Dark Forest is off-limits to all students . . ."

Dumbledore continued to speak, and after he was done, we had the amazing feast. Throughout the entire time, boys I had known since I was in my first year came up to me and said, "Looking good this year, Hermione!" or "Whoa, Hermione, is that you?" Or sometimes they didn't say anything at all – they just stared at me. Apparently Ron wasn't the only one who noticed my changes.

After dinner, I parted with Harry and Ron and headed over to Professor McGonagall. It had said in the letter I had received that I was to meet up with her after dinner. I anxiously waited to see who my partner would be. I was unpleasantly surprised at who walked over.

"Malfoy?" I shrieked as the boy came up from between the aisles, puffing out his chest to show the shining "Head Boy" Badge pinned to his robes.

"Yes, Miss Granger, you will be sharing a dormitory with Mr. Malfoy. Now, here are the directions to your room. There are two rooms - one for each of you – and a bathroom for each of you as well. You are expected to keep to yourselves at night and patrol the corridors according to the schedule."

I was completely zoning out on what McGonagall was saying. _Malfoy_? I was going to have to share a living space with Draco Malfoy? What was this world coming to?

On the other hand, however, I realized that this would be the perfect opportunity to put mission Ron Weasley into action.

"You got that, Miss Granger?" McGonagall said, breaking my thoughts.

"Yes, Professor."

"Alright, you two. You have no duties for tonight, but they will start tomorrow. Goodnight."


	8. Rules

**Disclaimer: **I don't own any of these characters. This also goes for all the other chapters that I forgot and am too lazy to add.

**Eight**

I followed Malfoy down the corridor to the dormitory silently. That was because I was planning it all in my head. Every little detail of my plan was falling into place, without my having to lift a finger.

I called it Operation Jealousy for a reason. I had been living these past seven years, wondering if he loved me. I was not going to back out now. You can't love someone for that long and then just give up without really trying to do anything. Sure, we had sort of gone out in our third year, but that wasn't enough. We were too young. We didn't know what it really meant. Now I was seventeen, and I had waited long enough. If he was not going to admit it openly or even admit it to himself, I would force him to see the light, or I would give up in the process.

We arrived at our dormitory. There was a small Common Room, with a bulletin board that told us what to do, a cheerful fireplace, and many large armchairs. There were two desks on which to do our work – one labeled "Head Boy," the other "Head Girl." It was sort of like having my own private office, only I had to share it with Malfoy. Knowing him, however, he would never do his duties and never do his homework, so I would pretty much have it to myself anyways.

On either side of the room was another room – one for each of us – that contained a bed, a dresser, a mirror, and a large bathroom. The bathroom had a huge Jacuzzi bath made of polished marble, a large shower, a pile of fluffy white towels, and (of course) a toilet and sink. I instantly made myself at home, throwing my stuff on the bed and hopping into the bathtub.

Only seconds after I had gotten into the bath, Malfoy waltzed into the bathroom, a large smirk on his face.

"Malfoy! Get out now!" I shrieked, hoping that the bubbles would be enough to cover me.

"Don't worry, Granger, I am not coming in to observe you bathe," he sneered. "I just want to get a few things across."

"You wouldn't mind watching me bathe, now would you?" I asked, ignoring the last statement.

"Oh, stop flattering yourself. Anyways, here are my rules. You are not allowed in my bedroom unless I invite you in. You are not allowed to spy on me while I am bathing, showering, or taking a piss."

"Why would I do that? I mean, you're Malfoy. That is just plain disgusting," I said.

He ignored me and continued, "You are not allowed to disturb me when Crabbe and Goyle are in here."

"Wait, wait, wait. Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle are _not_ coming in here. I have a strong feeling that if they do, they will not respect my privacy as much as I would like. They're mindless thugs – they probably don't even know what the word _privacy_ means," I hissed coldly.

"The sad thing is that I bet you're right," he sighed. "Nevertheless, they are going to come in here."

"On one condition," I added. "You must allow Harry and Ron to come in as well."

"Potter and Weasley? Why the hell would I allow _them_ to come in here? You're lucky I'm not forcing you to sleep outside."

"Oh, shut up. If your friends are allowed in, so are mine."

Malfoy bit his lower lip, but then said, "Fine. But the same rules apply to them."

I smirked and said, "Well, if you have rules, then I have rules as well."

"State them."

"Let's see . . . all doors that I lock will remain locked or I will take it up with Professor McGonagall. You do not touch anything in my room or bathroom, including myself, if the doors are unlocked by accident. You do not touch anything on my desk, including my homework, quills, ink, and everything inside it, be it by spells or by physical touch. And these rules apply to your cronies as well," I stated quite simply."

Malfoy tilted his head and smiled roguishly. "It's a deal," he said, extending his hand. I took it and we shook.

I could only hope that this was the beginning of a wonderful relationship.


	9. Late

**Disclaimer**: I don't own any of these characters, or the setting, for that matter. But the title and the story line are mine. Mine, all mine!! Gwa-ha-ha-ha-ha!! Okay, let's stop being odd and get to the story, shall we?

**Nine**

The first thing I heard was a knock on the door when I woke up the next morning. Frantic shouting came from outside.

"Hermione! Hermione, get out here now! We're going to be late for potions!" Ron's voice called from outside the door to our dormitory. I sat bolt upright, now fully awake, and looked to the clock I had magicked on to my bedside table. It read nine o'clock – the beginning of my first class.

"Oh, no!" I moaned. I ran to my wardrobe and pulled out my school clothes. My hair was sticking up every which way, but I needed to get to class. As I dressed, I realized that in all the excitement of my new room last night, I had forgotten to turn the alarm on.

"Um, I'll be right there, Ron! Just a second!" I called. I threw on my clothes and grabbed my robes. Sticking my arms through the arm holes and gripping my wand tightly, I flung open the door and saw Ron standing outside. He looked at me as though I had something stuck in my teeth. It was then that I realized that my hair was still messy, and I had on no make-up. I touched the tip of my wand to my head and my hair flattened out and pulled itself off of my face. I ran my hand quickly over my face, and from beneath it, make-up applied itself perfectly.

"So _that's_ how girls get ready in the morning!" he cried, a look of complete awe on his face.

"No, Ron, that's just me. I don't think anyone else knows how to do that," I said quickly, barely stopping to take a breath. "C'mon!" I grabbed his arm and dragged him through the school to the dungeons. We ran like we were being chased by a forest fire or something. Well, actually, I ran – Ron kind of skipped along behind me, tripping over his feet as I pulled him along.

"Granger, Weasley, you're late," Snape snapped the second we sped through the door to the dark classroom.

"I'm sorry, Professor, I got lost on my way here from my dormitory," I lied.

"Well, what's your story, then, Weasley?"

Ron opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out, so I responded for him.

"Please, sir, he found me on his way here and tried to help me back," I said.

"Miss Granger, will you please stop being such a know-it-all? I asked Mr. Weasley what his excuse was, not what your excuse for him was," Snape sneered.

"But sir, please –"

"Silence, Miss Granger, and five points from Gryffindor! You will remember from now on to keep your tongue behind your teeth! Just because you and Mr. Malfoy had a late night last night –"

"They had a what?" Ron screamed, spinning on his heel to look at me. Then he turned back to Professor Snape and said, "I don't think you're authorized to make such comments!"

The classroom was silent. Every eye was on Ron and I. Harry's green ones glittered with fear and loathing, while Malfoy's were silently smirking at us. Hannah Abbot, a Hufflepuff, was gnawing on her lower lip. Susan Bones looked like she was about to cry.

"Mister Weasley," Snape said in barely more than a whisper, every word dripping with malice, "I don't think _you_ are authorized to be so fresh, cocky, and overconfident as you are. In the future, you will remember the time when I took twenty points from Gryffindor because you said such things, plus an additional ten from both of you for being late. If you add on Granger's five for speaking out, that will give you . . . a total of . . . forty-five points from Gryffindor."

My jaw dropped. If Ron hadn't been gripping my hand and holding me back, I would have slapped him. How could he say such things? A late night with Malfoy? Know-it-all? _Forty-five points from Gryffindor?_ These were the times when I aspired to be the Headmaster someday here so I could fire him.

"Take your seats," he commanded harshly.

"Professor –" I began to protest, running up to him.

Ron was faster and got to me before I got to Snape. He grabbed both my hands and said, "Hermione, calm down, it's alright. This is Snape, after all. It's not like he hasn't done anything like this before."

"Since when are you Mister Logical?" I snapped, my eyes flashing dangerously. Ron pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth and shook his head, not taking his eyes off me for a moment. My size 32-B chest heaving, I looked at Ron's hands on top of mine. He hadn't done that since we were in the Three Broomsticks in our third year. I looked back up at him, and he dropped them quickly.

I turned to face the rest of the class and began to walk slowly down the aisles of tables until I reached my seat. I passed Harry, whose mouth was slightly hanging open; Hannah, who threw me a look of sympathy; Susan, who tried to smile; and Malfoy . . . who pawed at my skirt again. I spun around and looked him straight in the eye.

"Keep your hands away from my skirt, you jerk," I hissed, my face two inches from his. His eyes were wide in horror. I figured that when I was angry, I could be pretty scary looking.

However, he eased back into his chair and said, "Alright, Head Girl, what are you going to do about it, report to the Headmaster?" Then he did the stupidest thing he could have done when I was in this state of rage. He flicked my skirt again.

My blood boiled. When I had come to the school, I expected everyone to be amazed by my changes, but I did not expect to be abused. As Malfoy sat there, laughing, flicking my skirt, as Ron watched from afar, almost as angered as I was, and as Snape stared at the scene and did nothing, I wound back my arm, then let it go, leaving a huge red mark on his face where I had slapped him.

The class gasped. Malfoy clutched his cheek. Ron was just staring at me like everyone else, his jaw dropped to the floor. Harry was suppressing a laugh. Snape stood where he had the entire class, his eyes wide with horror.

"Shut your mouth, Potter," he retorted coldly at Harry's laughing fit. "Granger, it's time for a visit with Professor Dumbledore."

I opened my mouth to speak, but all that came out was a high-pitched squeak. Malfoy, who seemed to get over the slap way too quickly, was suddenly sneering at me.

"But . . . but . . ." I stuttered.

"Oh, stop trying, Granger, you sound like a train," Snape snapped. "Report to Professor Dumbledore's office immediately. And if you do not, trust me, there will be consequences much more severe than a few points from Gryffindor."

If I had not matured so much over the summer, I would have cried or something. If I had not grown and changed and realized what a harsh world we live in, I would have spoken up. But I knew better. So instead of protesting further, I just walked back to the front of the classroom. Malfoy reached out for my skirt, but I slapped his hand away.

"That is enough, Miss Granger!" Snape shouted. I just kept my gaze forward and kept walking. Ron was waiting for me at the end.

"Professor, she did nothing wrong! Malfoy is the one who should be punished! He was playing with her skirt!" Ron cried defiantly.

"Shut up, Weasley, before I add an additional fifty points to the forty-five you have already managed to lose!"

I gently touched Ron's shoulder as I passed him and leaned close to him, whispering, "He's right, Ron. For once, you probably should shut up."

"But, Hermione!" he shouted after me. But I just ignored him. I turned back, threw him and Harry one last look, and disappeared behind the door.


	10. Dumbledore's Confession

**Disclaimer: **Obviously, I did not create these characters or this setting, but the story is mine, so don't steal it or I'll kill you. This goes for every chapter that I forgot to put it on.

**Ten**

After I left the classroom, my heart was beating against my ribcage. I was certain that everyone in there had heart it because it was so loud. Or perhaps it was just because I was paranoid. I didn't know. Right at that moment, I was too nervous to analyze as deeply as I normally would have.

I, Hermione Jane Granger, had been sent to the Headmaster's office.

What was I thinking in slapping him? I had never let my temper get to me like that before. Why now, why this year? I could see my Head Girl-ship flushing down the toilet. I would get to Professor Dumbledore's office, and he would frown at me and say, "Miss Granger, maybe you were not cut out for this after all. I suggest that we find a new Head Girl immediately." And worse, what about Operation Jealousy? I had been hoping to use Malfoy as my boy toy, but after that slap, there was no way he was going to go through with it now. Or was he that shallow that he would?

I reached the door to Professor Dumbledore's office, but there was no way for me to get it. Something stood in the way and blocked the entrance.

"Um, excuse me? May I just . . . . sneak by?" I asked the statue. Nothing happened.

Seconds later, however, the statue moved out of the way as Professor McGonagall emerged from behind the door.

"Ah, Miss Granger . . . you were sent by Professor Snape, am I correct?"

"Yes, Professor," I replied shakily.

"Alright, follow me, then."

She led me to the office and to a huge, wooden door. The door opened after she emitted the password, my heart beat increasing.

"Professor Dumbledore? Hermione Granger to see you," she said, and she turned and left.

Professor Dumbledore sat at his desk, leaning against the back of his chair, the tips of his fingers resting gently against one another.

"Ah, Miss Granger," he said, as though I were simply here for a meeting. "I understand . . . that you struck Mister Malfoy across the face?"

"Y-yes, sir," I answered.

"About time someone did," came his muffled reply. My eyes widened, but he continued to look at me as though nothing had happened.

"And why did you do this?" he asked.

I sighed, closed and opened my eyes, and said, "Because . . . . because he was playing with my skirt in a very suggestive way. It made me feel uncomfortable."

"I see. This action was very true to Mr. Malfoy's character, was it not?"

"Yes, sir," I said, omitting a small laugh.

"Very well then. You may go."

Completely dumbstruck, I asked, "What?"

"You are dismissed, Miss Granger, you may go," Dumbledore replied simply.

"Sir, I'm not sure you understand," I said quietly, so as not to offend him. "I slapped Draco Malfoy. Aren't I going to be punished?"

"Of course not, Hermione, unless you want me to punish you," he said.

"Well, no, I don't wish to be punished, but . . . why?"

Dumbledore leaned forward and put his elbows on his desk. "Hermione, I do not particularly approve of Mister Malfoy's behavior all the time, but since he does not show anything wrong right to my face, I cannot punish him. He's so false. I can see straight through to his heart, and I can tell you quite easily where he's getting it from. His father, as you probably know, is not exactly the kindest person I have ever met.

"When it came time to choose the Head Boy and Girl, I immediately suggested you as the Head Girl. All of the teachers, except for Professor Snape, heartily agreed with me. As for the Head Boy, there was a little more of a dispute as to that. I suggested Harry, but Snape dismissed that in a heartbeat – he said I was favoring the boy because of the loss of his parents. Of course, I do feel more of a connection with him than I do with many of the other students, but I do not favor him. If Harry were a bad student who was illegible for the job, I would not have suggested him. Anyways, I asked Professor Snape if he had any suggestions, and he did, of course – and that was Malfoy. For some reason, none of the teachers particularly had anything really against him, and since my vote could not overrule everyone else's, he was chosen.

"If the choice had been mine, you and Mister Potter would probably be the Head Boy and Girl. But seeing as I cannot choose on my own, this was not an option for me. I have never really like mister Malfoy, and I daresay that it was about time he was brought back to reality, and that it was about time that he realized he could not triumph all the time. Unfortunately, Professor Snape sent you down here, so he probably feels like he triumphed anyways . . . ."

Dumbledore trailed off. I just stood there, amazed by what he had just told me. Dumbledore had basically said that he hated Malfoy, and I had proof of it. At least I knew that not all the teachers thought he was a saint.

"Anyways, Hermione, that is why I am not punishing you. Right on," Dumbledore said with a smile. Then, his expression changed to one of stern admonishment as he continued, "I mean, er, Miss Granger, that was very wrong indeed, very wrong of you. You may go." As I turned to leave, he gave me a slight wink. I winked back and walked out the door, feeling a sense of triumph myself.


	11. Announcements

**Disclaimer:** If you've read the other chapters, guess what? It's the same as them. And since I'm too lazy to make them for all later chapters, this goes for all later chapters.

**Eleven**

By the time I got back to the potions classroom, everyone was filing out. I stood by the door with a smirk on my face, waiting for my friends. Hannah and Susan smiled at me as they passed. Malfoy, however, wasn't as pleased.

"What'd he do to you?" he asked.

"Oh, he beat me," I said sarcastically. He raised his eyebrows, and in response I said, "Actually I got off."

"You got off? _How_ could you get off? You left a mark!" he screamed, pointing to the red mark I had left on his cheek.

"Sorry, Malfoy, but you've got to learn that you can't always get what you want, and that includes girls," I sneered. He simply glared at me and muttered some words under his breath that I couldn't hear before turning back to Crabbe and Goyle. Last to emerge from the throng were Harry and Ron.

"You're alright!" Ron exclaimed, a bit too much enthusiasm in his voice.

"That was an act of bravery, Hermione – slapping Malfoy while Snape was watching you!" Harry added. "I didn't know you had it in you."

"Well, not only did I change physically over the summer, I grew some sense. It was about time that Malfoy was brought down to reality," I sniggered.

Still amazed, Ron exclaimed, "You're alright! What did he do to you?"

"To be honest, nothing. He said the same thing I did – it was about damn time."

"Hermione!" Ron said, raising his eyebrows at my cussing. "I guess you _have_ changed."

Together, we walked down to lunch. I had a new sense of pride – both Harry and Ron respected me for my brave acts during potions class, and Malfoy feared me a bit. Also, I knew that Operation Jealousy had potential – that is, as long asMalfoy didn't hate me for slapping him.

And luckily for me, an opportunity to go through with my plan was about to be thrown into sharp relief.

As we sat there at lunch, Ron talking through gobs of food in his mouth, Professor Dumbledore stood up at the front and addressed us all.

"Students and Staff of Hogwarts School!" he shouted, to get everyone's attention. Every eye turned to him. Ron swallowed his food and looked back to me before looking at Dumbledore.

"We have decided that you people need some fun this year. You haven't had any real fun since the Triwizard Tournament, but even that went astray. We have come to the conclusion that we should allow the Holiday Ball that was a tradition many years ago in our school, a tradition that your parents may remember if and when they went to this school. The Ball will be held on Christmas Eve, and will be formal.

"We have, however, added something new. In the interest of adding academics to this Ball, we have decided to make it like a Muggle 'prom' that they have in many high schools (as suggested by the Muggle Studies Professor). You will be required to wear a 'prom dress' or 'tuxedo,' as they call them. Do not worry – I am certain you will be able to find something at Hogsmeade. As a special treat, we will have time shifts for the next Hogsmeade visit in which everyone, including students below the third year, may be allowed to find a dress or tuxedo."

The students were absolutely stunned. Only the people like me, the Muggle-borns, knew what he was talking about. We, of course, were excited and giddy. I had dreamed of having a prom when I was younger, and now I was finally going to get one.

The new problem, besides finding a dress, was who to go with. Everyone was uptight about their dates, or lack thereof. I noticed quite a few people blushing when members of the opposite gender passed them. It was as though Valentine's Day was coming early.

Although I could have had pretty much any date I wanted, no one had asked me yet, and I was not about to ask someone myself. I wanted him to ask me.

Luckily for me, I didn't have to wait that long.

"Let's go, guys," Harry said the day before the ball. They were picking me up outside my dormitory before dinner.

"One sec, Harry, I wanted to talk to Hermione for a moment," Ron said. "D'you mind?" he asked, turning to me.

"Of course not," I said. My heart skipped a beat.

"I'll meet you in the Great Hall, then," Harry replied.

Ron touched my arm gently, guiding me away from the huge torrent of people streaming into the Great Hall.

"Well, this may be a little, er, unexpected or whatever and um, you might, um, laugh in my face or something, but . . . ." He stopped, his mouth half open, at a total loss for words.

"Ron, we both know what you're about to say, and you know what my answer is going to be, so just say it and get it over with," I said, a hint of a smile on my face.

For some reason, he still seemed nervous. He looked at the ground, took a deep breath and said, "Would you go to the Holiday Ball with me?"

I didn't say anything. The smile that had been threatening to break on my face shone through completely as I threw my arms around him. At first, he seemed a bit surprised, but then he hugged me back.

"Of course I will, Ron," I said, still hugging him. I knew in my heart that this would be the best night of my life.


	12. The Holiday Ball

**Disclaimer: **Same crap as before.

**Twelve**

The Holiday Ball was definitely, though it wasn't said aloud, vastly overrated. Sure, the decorations were amazing, everyone was dressed up, and the music was pretty good, but it wasn't as good as the Yule Ball had been back in our fourth year.

I had found myself a beautiful dress for the ball in Hogsmeade – it was down to my ankles and the colors consisted mostly of shades of blue and silver. At the bottom, it was a dark, midnight blue, with silvery stars glittering. As the dress went up, it faded to a lighter and lighter shade of blue, and the number of stars lessened, as well. I had silver shoes to match the outfit, and I put my hair up. It was in a bun on top of my head, and curls hung down loosely from it, as though they had fallen out. Two small strands of hair hung in the front, which had also been curled.

The second I walked in, Ron at my side (Harry was waiting for his date – Ginny), I felt almost every eye on the pair of us. A sixth year I recognized as Michael Corner, Ginny's ex-boyfriend, turned to one of his friends and said, "How did Ginny's brother, a _Weasley_, end up with _her_?"

"That's Hermione Granger," his friend replied. Right on cue, I turned to look at them.

"Hi, Michael!" I said, giving him a small, friendly wave. He just sat there and stared at me.

The door to the Great Hall opened, and Harry and Ginny waltzed into the room.

Ginny was wearing a beautiful, aqua-colored satin dress that reached down to her ankles. The straps weren't really straps at all, but instead rested daintily on her shoulders, leaving them bare. She had diamond stud earrings in her ears, and a silver chain with a matching pendant hung about her neck. A diamond-studded headband separated the glossy red curls in the back from those that fell softly in her face. Harry – who was in a tux, like all the other boys – could barely keep his eyes off her.

"Ginny looks absolutely . . . gorgeous," I said with bated breath.

"Bet Michael wishes they had broken up now," Ron sneered.

Sure enough, when we turned around, he had his fists clamped up in tight balls. You could pretty much see the steam spewing out from his ears in jealousy.

"Oh, hello Michael, Shira," Ginny said, addressing her ex and his date. "Have you two met Harry?"

"Yes," said Michael curtly.

"Michael," Harry said, nodding slightly. "Now, let's go see Ron and Hermione, shall we?" he asked, addressing Ginny. Harry escorted her over to where we stood, laughing at Mr. Corner's reaction to all of this.

"Ginny, you are quite cold," I said.

"Harry, a word to the wise, my friend," Ron said, "don't be a jerk like Michael was, or else you'll certainly be getting the cold shoulder from now on."

Harry and Ginny exchanged glances before saying in unison, "We're not going steady."

"Oh. Okay," Ron said dismissively.

We meandered around for awhile, watching Michael's jealousy grow and grow, and also observing how even though Malfoy's date was Pansy, he couldn't stop staring at me.

"What is it with Malfoy lately?" Ron asked, giving him the evil eye as the Slytherin turned away sharply, realizing we had seen him.

"I dunno. He's been acting strangely all year – at least, so far. He keeps staring at me like I'm a completely different person," I replied.

"That's because you are. You are on the outside, I mean. You still have the same face and everything, but you look . . . different," he said. This time, _he_ was staring at me.

I raised one eyebrow and questioned, "How so?"

"I dunno – you just look different. You're much more . . . curvy, I guess. One could say it's a bit seductive. And your hair isn't bushy anymore. Instead, it's wavy and full of volume and everything . . . ." he said. I smiled.

"Do I really look that good?" I asked.

"Oh, come on, Hermione. Now you're just fishing for a compliment!" he cried. "Don't pretend you haven't noticed all the stares besides Malfoy's. Every guy in the school has their eye on you now."

"_Every_ guy?" I hinted. Ron opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Instead, a slow song came on.

"Wanna dance?" he asked, extending his hand.

"Sure," I said.

I can tell you, I've never danced with Ron before, but it was an experience I would never forget. He wrapped his arms around my waist, I put mine on his shoulders. Just having him next to me was warming my insides. We were closer than I expected – I thought it was going to be one of those things where the couple is arms length away from each other, but it wasn't. We were really close. I could actually feel his knees against my legs. I didn't think it was possible. After he had broken up with me in our third year, I never imagined that we would be anything more than friends. Maybe I was wrong.

I couldn't look at him. I was too afraid I'd blush and get really embarrassed or something. I kept looking at my feet, or looking at the other people who were slow dancing, or even at Ginny and Harry. I was surprised – they were closer than we were. I laughed when Ginny caught me spying on her. She waved at me excitedly, and I waved back.

"What was that about?" Ron asked.

"Oh, Ginny, that's all."

He grinned and said, "I always knew they would get together."

"Well, they said they weren't."

"How can you deny that? I mean, look at them. They're so close – it's a good thing neither of them are claustrophobic. If they were any closer, they'd be . . ."

He trailed off, because in that second, what he had just been thinking of came true.

"I can't believe it! He kissed her! He really kissed her!" I said in an excited whisper. Ron said nothing. He just watched them with his mouth wide open.

When they drew back out of the kiss, Ginny closed her eyes and laid her head on his shoulder. I couldn't help but smile. That was exactly what I had been hoping would happen to me.

"Look at her! She is soaking this up while she can!" I exclaimed.

After the song was over, I was still marveling at Harry and Ginny. When she opened her eyes, however, she saw me. Apparently, she saw Ron, as well, whose mouth was still hanging open. She looked back to Harry and nervously tapped him on the shoulder. He looked at us and saw the expression on Ron's face, then gently put a hand on Ginny's back to guide her away.

"What was that about?" Ron asked, repeating the question he had stated earlier.

"I have no clue. It looked like they were mad because you were spying," I answered.

"I was not spying!" he cried. I gave him a skeptical look, and he added, "Well, I wasn't spying any more than you were!"

"True . . ." I said.

The whole rest of the ball we spent looking for Harry and Ginny, who were nowhere to be found. We searched the Great Hall in its entirety, but they were not there. It seemed like only minutes had gone by before it was time for the next slow song.

"Ron, are we going to dance again?" I asked timidly.

"I can't, I have to look for my sister. You can find someone if you want to. I mean, you have your options, Hermione." With that, he began looking around for Ginny again.

Just then, I felt someone tap my shoulder. I turned around to see Malfoy.

"Yeah?" I asked.

"Dance with me," he commanded. It wasn't even a question, it was a command. That's Malfoy for you, though. He simply took my hand and brought me on to the dance floor, wrapped his arms around my waist, and began dancing with me. That was alright, though – it was time to put Operation Jealousy into action.

"You don't bother to ask anymore, do you?" I blurted quite rudely.

"No. I'm just so used to getting the right answer that I figure it's not worth it," he answered, just as rudely as I had asked. Typical Malfoy. This was exactly what Dumbledore was trying to prevent in not punishing me for slapping him.

"Why are you dancing with me?"

"Because."

"Well, last year, you wouldn't have gotten caught dead within two feet of me."

"Well, times change, and so do people. I'm a new person, Hermione. I've changed for the better," Malfoy said.

"Wait a second – did you just call me by my name? My _first_ name, at that?" I inquired in surprise.

"Yes. I've told you, Hermione, I've changed."

"I suppose you have."

We danced for a little while before he spoke again. I had noticed that with each step we took, he moved a small step forward, closer to me. This thrilled me – my plan was working.

"Hey, Hermione? I was wondering . . ."

"Yes?"

"You know how there's that Hogsmeade visit coming up in January . . . d'you want to go there with me?" he asked.

My eyes widened – this was way too easy to be true. "You're asking me to go to Hogsmeade with you. Me. Hermione Granger. The know-it-all. The Mudblood. Don't you remember?"

"Of course I remember. I couldn't forget. I was horrible to you, and I want to change that," he replied.

I raised my eyebrows. Was this just a Malfoy prank, or was he for real?

"This is all just a stunt to embarrass me in front of the school, isn't it?" I asked.

"Of course not! How many times do I have to tell you, I'm different! Better! New-and-improved!"

"This is Draco Malfoy I'm talking to. How can I be so sure?" I asked. I was completely honest – even though I was thrilled that it was working, I couldn't completely trust him. But what he did next was the most surprising thing that I think ever happened to me in my life.

He kissed me.

As we gently pulled away from each other, I looked at him with wide eyes.

"Does that prove anything?" he asked quietly.

I opened my mouth and closed it again before saying, "Yes, it does. And yes, I'd love to go to Hogsmeade with you."

"That's what I thought," Malfoy murmured. I laid my head on his shoulder and looked around.

There, in the entrance to the Great Hall, I saw Ron with Ginny and Harry. Harry and Ginny were staring at me as though I had grown an extra head. Ron just looked absolutely horrified. Without saying another word to his companions, he turned and left.

Operation Jealousy was put into affect, and was proving to work quite well. I could only hope I hadn't taken it too far.


	13. Or Does He?

**Disclaimer: **What do you think I'm gonna say?

**Thirteen**

"But he's _Malfoy_, Hermione! Draco Malfoy! Can you really trust that _Draco Malfoy _likes you? He's hated you since the first day of our first year! Hell, he hates Harry and me as well! Would he really want to go ou with someone who associates with 'Weaselbee and Saint Potter'?"

"Shut up, Ron, you don't know the half of it. He's changed," I snapped.

"No he hasn't!"

"YES HE HAS!" I roared. "WHY ELSE WOULD HE HAVE KISSED ME?"

Ron stood, looking at me, absolutely dumbfounded. "He kissed you?"

"Yes, he did. D'you mind?" I asked, my hands on my hips. Ron just stared at me.

"That's it, that's just . . . . that's it," he muttered, walking away. He pretty much sprinted up to his dormitory, leaving me to stand there and watch him.

"What did I do?" I asked as Ginny and Harry walked into the Common Room.

"I dunno, don't get me involved," Harry said, following after Ron. The only two people left in the Common Room were Ginny and I, still in our prom dresses.

"Ginny, what did I do?" I asked again.

"Well, Ron's kinda pissed because of you and Malfoy," she said, sitting down on a sofa nearby. I sat down next to her.

"I know, but why? I mean, he was pissed about Krum, too. He just doesn't like me getting with any guys," I said.

"It's not that, Hermione, it's just . . . I dunno, I can't say. I'm not supposed to say any of this stuff," she said quietly. "Besides, I have to go to bed. I'll talk to you tomorrow, Hermione."

"Fine," I puffed, and I began walking back to my dormitory, where I knew Malfoy would be waiting for me. Perhaps Operation Jealousy wasn't exactly the best idea after all.

I knocked on the door three times, to signify that it was me. Malfoy opened the door and said, "Hey, babe. Where have you been all night?"

"Oh, I just had to talk to Ron for a minute," I murmured, avoiding his gaze. He leaned in and gave me a gentle kiss. I accepted it, but rather warily.

"What's wrong?" Malfoy asked. "Did Weasley give you a hard time?" He escorted me inside, one arm wrapped around my waist.

"A bit," I lied. It was more than a bit. I would be lucky for him to ever talk to me again. I had never felt so miserable.

"What did he say?"

I sighed and said, "The same stuff I said to you earlier. How do I know you're not just using me?"

"Because I wouldn't do that, sugar. I've changed. Everything about me has changed, besides my good looks. Something about you has made me want to change, want to get to know you. It's like you've triggered my intuition. I could barely consider myself a Slytherin anymore," he said sweetly.

"Really?" I asked.

"Of course. Why would I lie to you? Now, don't worry your pretty little head with things like Weasley and Potter. They will realize in time that I am different. For now, just rest."

He kissed me again, then turned back to his dormitory and murmured, "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," I murmured back, realizing that he was an amazing kisser.

What was I thinking? Ron was right, this was _Draco Malfoy_. He didn't really like me. He was just using me.

Or did he?


	14. Double Potions

**Disclaimer: **Just guess.

**Fourteen**

Well, needless to say, Ron wasn't exactly the happiest guy in the world after our fight. And I wasn't the happiest girl in the world, either. Perhaps Operation Jealousy had taken a turn for the worse.

The next day, we had double potions, and as usual, I was paired with a Slytherin. Unfortunately for me, that Slytherin was Pansy Parkinson – Malfoy's date to the dance that he ditched for me. And even more unfortunately was that Ron's partner just happened to be Malfoy.

"I can't believe that Draco would leave me for a Mudblood like _you_," Pansy hissed.

"I can't either," Ron shouted from across the room to Pansy. I glared at him, but he simply ignored me.

"I mean, you're not exactly the prettiest thing to walk the planet, and you study way too much for your own health. I mean, when are you going to have time for him to have sex with you?"

"Excuse me?" I asked, my eyes widening.

"That's what he wants, you know," Pansy continued, as though I hadn't said anything at all. "Sometimes I think the only reason he went out with me in the first place was because he wanted to have someone to screw. But you? I mean –"

"Exactly how many people has Malfoy 'screwed'?" I asked tentatively.

"Oh, I'm not quite sure, but I know I'm one of them."

If it was possible, my eyes widened even more. I simply turned away and moved my attention to chopping up the roots I was given. I strained my ears to listen to what Malfoy was saying to Ron.

"So, what do you think about me and Hermione? Pretty nice couple, huh?" he said, smirking. Ron's grip grew firmer on his knife. "We're perfect for each other."

"Perfect for each other?" Ron asked, dropping the knife on to the table. "Perfect for each other? You only want her because she's hot."

My cheeks turned red at that. Ron had just said that I was hot. My heart flipped over in my chest.

"Well, Weasley" – he turned over to look at me but instead saw me staring. His face suddenly changed as he continued, "Oh, don't be stupid, that's not the _only_ reason I want her."

"What do you know about her?" Ron asked, his hand shaking as he resumed slicing the roots.

"What do you care?" Malfoy retorted.

"I just do, alright? I don't want my friend hurt," Ron said softly.

Malfoy's smirk grew even wider. "Your _friend_?" he asked, and Ron turned away slowly. "_Just_ your friend? It has grown exceedingly obvious, Weasley, that –"

I turned away. I didn't want to know what he was going to say. Because if my speculations were correct, and he was really going to say that it had grown exceedingly obvious that he had a crush on me, then I would feel like the worst person in the world.

"I swear, Malfoy, if you don't shut up this second, I will stab you with this knife, so help me," Ron hissed. At that comment, I couldn't help but jump in.

"Ron!" I cried. I walked over to Draco, who took my arm and wrapped his other arm around my waist. "That was a horrible thing to say!"

"Coming from you, that means nothing," he sneered. He turned back to his roots and began chopping as though they were Draco's neck.

"Thanks, babe," Draco said, turning to me. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

He planted a forceful kiss on my lips, but I pulled away gently. Putting my finger to his lips, I said quietly, "Not hear, Draco." Turning to Ron, I added, "Some people would be offended."

Ron scoffed at us and said, "Get a room."

"Maybe we will, Weasley," Malfoy retorted.

"What is going on here, Weasley? Mister Malfoy? Granger?" Snape asked, striding nonchalantly over to us.

"Nothing, sir," Ron said quietly, looking down at his poorly chopped roots.

"Don't lie to me, Weasley, I heard you three shouting from the front of the classroom. What is going on? And Miss Granger, why are you here? You're not even part of this partnership," Snape snapped.

"I'll meet you after class," Draco whispered quietly in my ear. I smiled to myself and turned away, back to my table.

"What the hell were you doing over there?" Pansy demanded. "I've had to do all this by myself!" She had only managed to pour my roots into the cauldron. "And then I broke a nail."

"Oh, the horror," I sneered.

After class, as Draco put his arm around me so we could begin our Head Boy and Girl duties, I said to him, "One second, Draco. I need to talk to someone."

"Alright, babe, I'll meet you by our dormitory." He kissed me softly, and then turned away with a small wave.

I didn't want to waste a second. The farther away from me Ron got, the more I could feel him slipping into anger. Maybe if I could catch him in a good mood, he would accept my thanks.

He was talking in hushed tones to Harry. I realized this was bad the second I saw it, because I knew exactly what they were talking about.

"Ron?" I inquired gently. "Thank you for –"

He turned away from me swiftly.

"Oh, that's really mature," I mumbled. Turning to Harry, I said, "Could you please tell Ron that I say thanks for standing up for me against Draco? I mean, not that it mattered because you really didn't need to. Honestly, Ron, he's not going to hurt me –"

"Tell Hermione I wasn't standing up for her – I was standing up for myself. But thank her for the thanks anyways. After all, I've been standing up for her for six years and I've never heard a 'thank-you' before."

My mouth dropped open and I practically screamed at Harry, "Well, tell Ron that I take my thanks back!" I spun on my heel and walked away.

"Well, see if I care!" Ron shouted directly to me. I heard him murmur to Harry before I was completely out of earshot, "I guess her looks aren't all that's changed."


	15. Thundercloud

**Disclaimer: **Wow this is getting old . . . this goes for all the chapters after it because I am tired of trying to think of new and creative ways to write the disclaimer.

**Fifteen**

I was fuming with anger by the time I reached my dormitory. I had decided not to see Draco before beginning my duties. I figured that that would only make things worse. Of course, since I had spent all that time alone, I had yelled at about three people (two of which were Gryffindors) and had threatened to take points from a little first-year girl in Hufflepuff when all they had been doing was walking around. Needless to say I wasn't exactly the most popular person in the school at the moment.

"Well," I said to myself, "at least Draco will comfort me."

I was wrong.

"What the hell took you so long?" he shouted the second I walked in the door. He didn't even give me time to say hello, or to notice that Crabbe and Goyle were standing there behind him, grinning stupidly.

"I'm sorry, Draco, I just got mad because of what someone said and so I decided it would be better to not see you and get you mad at me than to see you and get into a huge fight when I wasn't really mad at you to begin with," I spurted out in one breath.

"Who were you so mad at that you couldn't talk to me?" he continued to bellow.

"None of your business," I spat. "This is exactly what I was trying to prevent."

"Nice job," he hissed. I could have shot him there if I had wanted to. And now that I was going through it, Operation Jealousy hadn't been working at all, and so I didn't really need to go out with him to begin with. Why didn't I just break up with him now?

But then I looked at him, and I realized why. Because he was hot. And I mean really hot. With his silvery-blonde hair and eyes that seemed to look straight through me to the person I really was.

I must have been looking at him funny because he said, "What are you staring at?"

"You, Draco," I said, striding over to him. "Let's finish what we started in potions . . ."

And then he kissed me. I could hear Crabbe and Goyle whooping in the background, but I didn't care. If I was going to make him really believe that I wanted to go out with him, I would have to make this convincing. It was probably the most passionate kiss I had given him, but though I enjoyed it greatly, I felt no spark.

Once we pulled away from each other, I said, "We have to get to lunch. If we walk in late, what will everyone think we were doing?"

"Let them think what they want . . ." he murmured, and he began Frenching me again. In the middle of it, though, he noticed Crabbe and Goyle staring at us and he said, "Shove off, you two! This isn't a peep show! Get out of here!"

Begrudgingly, the two of them strode out of the room, and Draco and I resumed making out, this time rolling on to the floor.

We strode into lunch hand in hand about fifteen minutes late. The second I sat down at the table next to Ron, Draco blew me a kiss. I blew him one back, giggled, and began spooning food on to my plate.

"What the bloody hell was that about?" Ron asked.

"Oh, nothing," I shrugged. Ron let out a small growl and began stuffing his face.

Lunch went on normally until Ron starting bugging me about Draco once again.

"You know, Hermione, you should really go after someone who actually likes you for you, not for your body," he said through a mouthful of food.

"_What was that?_" I hissed, almost choking on the food I had just swallowed.

"Oh, come on, Hermione, it's not like you haven't noticed. He doesn't really like you, he just wants you for sex," Ron said bluntly.

"He does not!" I shouted, completely offended.

"Sorry to admit it, Hermione, but Ron's right. I mean, this is Malfoy we're talking about," Harry jumped in.

"So? He's changed, I tell you! And his name's not Malfoy, it's _Draco_," I drawled. "You're just stooping down to his old level in calling him that."

"But Hermione, that really is his name . . ." Harry remarked.

"Yes, but would you like me to call you 'Potter' from now on?"

"Of course not. You're my friend. And calling me that is like saying that we're enemies," he said defensively.

"Well, then why do you call Draco by his last name?"

Ron rolled his eyes and said, "Because he _is_ our enemy, stupid! Just because you're dating him doesn't mean that we have to like him!"

"No, but it does mean you should respect my choice. I chose him over _everybody_ in this school, in this world, even, and he chose me," I said, my eyes flashing dangerously. I made sure to put a large emphasis on the word 'everybody.' "Now, either stop complaining or I'll move to the Slytherin table."

"Go ahead! No one's stopping you!" Ron yelled, pudding flying from his mouth. Some of it hit Harry in the face. Harry wiped it off gingerly as Ron mumbled, "Sorry, Harry."

"S'alright, Ron. But that wasn't the best thing to say to her . . ."

"Don't worry, Harry, I'd much prefer to sit in the company of my boyfriend than in the company of this . . . this thing!" I cried, pointing to Ron. They watched me as I stomped over to where Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle sat. Once I arrived, Draco immediately shoved Crabbe over and made room for me, slipping his arm around my waist. I felt his hand travel downward and land on my butt.

"Draco, please!" I said playfully.

"Oh, come on, baby, I'm not going to do anything . . . ." He continued to touch me.

This was too much. I slapped his hand away, like I had done that time in potions class, and said, "Draco, stop it!"

"Oh, what's the matter? Can't a guy have a little fun without being punished around here?" he asked. Just when I thought every eye in the Great Hall was on the two of us, I heard footsteps behind me.

"Leave her alone, Malfoy," Ron hissed through clenched teeth.

"Oh, look who it is, it's the Weasel! I suppose you've come to rescue her and so win fair lady's heart?" Draco hissed back. "Well, terribly sorry, Ronnie boy, but this damsel doesn't want to be rescued, now, does she?" He threw me a look as if to warn me that if I said a word, I would be in much deeper trouble than this. I said nothing.

"I told you to leave her alone," Ron repeated.

"Or you'll do what?" he sneered.

In defiance, Ron whipped out his wand and pointed it straight at Draco's throat. Draco, however, simply laughed.

"Oh, Weasley, you amuse me. Do you actually think that a spell powerful enough to hurt me will actually come out of that wand? It's the only first-hand thing you own. I truly pity you, Weasley, to sink so low as to try and go after my girl."

Ron's confidence was suddenly shattered. "What are you talking about?" he spat.

"Oh, come on, you know you have a crush on Hermione. Everyone can tell. So why don't you just stop hiding and ask her out already?" Draco sneered.

Ron looked like a deer caught in the headlights. His eyes darted back and forth, from face to face. I just stared at him, and when we locked eyes, my heart melted. At that moment, I remembered why I had begun Operation Jealousy. What was I doing here? Why was I sitting here, with Draco's hand pretty much shoved down my skirt? And why, oh, why was I calling him Draco? I was so lost in my world that I didn't notice what was going on outside it.

"I'm not about to ask her out, Malfoy, I just want you not to hurt her."

"You're so obvious, Weasley. You like her, and you know it. But you've got to face reality, Weasley. – the good guy doesn't always get the girl. How could Hermione, such a gorgeous, smart, wonderful person, ever be interested in you? You have nothing that is all your own. You have never done anything unique or inordinary. Your family isn't exactly the richest . . . especially considering the way your robes look . . ." Draco sniggered, gesturing towards Ron's robes, which were tattered and patched in some places. "You can barely have an intelligent conversation with someone. Why would Hermione choose you when she has me as an option?"

Ron looked to Draco with a deep loathing in his eyes that I had never seen before. Sure, he had hated him, but it had never been this severe. For a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of jealousy, but it was gone before I could say anything.

He looked to Draco, then looked to me, then back to Draco, and to me once more. I wanted to say something, to help him out, to tell him that I loved him and I didn't really love Draco, but someone had cut my vocal chords.

Ron simply stormed away, his robes billowing out like a thunder cloud behind him that followed him everywhere he went.


	16. Realization

**Sixteen**

I was in the shower when he came in. The worst possible place for me to be. And of course, what was I doing? I was singing.

"_Because I'm broken when I'm lonesome, and I don't feel right when you're gone away_," I called into the shower room that I had thought was empty.

"_Hermione?_" Ron asked. "What the hell are you doing?"

I recognized the voice and screamed. I peeked my face out from behind the shower curtain and gasped.

"What are you doing _here_? This is the Head Girl's bathroom!" I shrieked.

"I know, and that's why I came here," he stated quite simply.

"You came in here to watch me _shower_?!" I cried, disgusted.

"Of course not! That's not what I meant. I came in here to find you," he said.

"Well, could you wait a second? I'm a little busy here," I hissed.

Ron sighed and said, "Hermione, I need to talk to you _now_. If you don't get out here now, I'll . . . I'll open the shower curtain!"

I screamed and shouted, "Okay, okay, I'm coming!" I rinsed the shampoo out of my hair as quickly as I could and shut off the water, reaching for the towel I had draped over the bar.

After wrapping myself up, I came out of the shower, my hair dripping and my body soaking wet.

"Now, what is so incredibly important that you threatened to open the shower curtain and made me get out while I was in the middle of it?" I asked.

Ron stared at me, as though he had never seen me before.

"You have a beautiful singing voice, Hermione," he said randomly.

I blushed and said, "Well, thank you, Ronald, I mean . . . wait a minute, you're trying to distract me! You don't want me to be mad at you!"

"No, really, Hermione, you do. I mean that," he said quietly.

"Oh, come on, Ron, I can see right through that little smile of yours. You forced me to get out here in nothing but a towel! What did you need to say so badly?"

It was as though Ron was seeing me in a whole new light. He suddenly looked at me, his eyes all aglow.

"You _are_ in nothing but a towel, aren't you?" he said, grinning. My jaw dropped and I tightened my grip on the towel.

"Ronald Bil –"

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry!" he cried, throwing his hands up in warning. "Don't even say it! You know how much I hate my middle name."

I folded my arms across my chest and made a small, "Hmph!" noise.

"Oh, come on, Hermione, don't be like that! I was only joking!" he said.

"Were you, Ron?" I asked, the one to grin this time.

He frowned and said quietly, "I thought we had agreed not to repeat the events of our third year."

"Yes, we did, but that doesn't mean we can help it, now, does it?" I said.

If anyone had walked into the room at that moment, they would have thought our minds had switched bodies. Suddenly Ron had turned into me, the logical, conservative one. I, on the other hand, had become Ron – the sarcastic, mischievous marauder.

"What are you insinuating?" Ron asked.

"Absolutely nothing. I'm just saying I think that you might be a bit jealous because I'm seeing Draco," I answered.

"Jealous?" he roared. "JEALOUS?! You're fraternizing with the enemy! I am not jealous – I am horrified! Ashamed! Disgusted! I am feeling many things right now, but definitely _not_ jealousy!"

Despite his seemingly confident reply, however, I saw a small flicker of something in his eyes. What was it? _Was_ it horror? Shame? Disgust? Or _could_ it have been jealousy?

"Anyways, why on Earth would you go out with him? What about him is so appealing to you?"

This was what I had been waiting for – a chance to show Ron my true devotion to Draco.

"He's _so_ cute, with that silvery-blonde hair of his. And he's smart – unlike you, Ron – so we can actually have an intelligent conversation, and he has a wonderful sense of humor. And, of course, he is the most amazing kisser."

Ron rolled his eyes and said, "Bloody hell, Hermione, is that all that matters to you? Looks, book smarts, and kissing ability? I mean, I'm sorry if I wasn't the world's best kisser, but, come on! It was my first kiss ever! And Draco probably has had a hell of a lot more practice –"

"You forgot a sense of humor," I interrupted.

"Well, it all depends on your definition of a sense of humor. If you find emotional and physical beating on people and being a dirty, rotten snitch funny, then yes, I would certainly say he has a sense of humor."

"He does not beat on people!" I cried defensively.

"Think about it, Hermione. Just last year he called you a . . . a . . . ."

"A Mudblood?" I finished.

"Exactly!" Ron shouted. "And now, he only wants you because you suddenly have huge sex appeal and share the same room, so he can . . . you know . . . any time he wants!"

"Ronald, how could you say such things! He has no intentions of doing anything I don't want to do! He respects my boundaries, and of course realizes that anything that goes on between us will permeate the school within about two hours and his rep would be completely ruined. Sure, he is a bit egotistical, but you can't just go around making up lies like that!" I yelled.

"But that's just it, Hermione!" Ron bellowed. "They aren't lies, and you know it! Sometimes, I think you're only going out with him to . . . to . . . ."

He stopped. I stood there, waiting for him to finish. He just sat there, his arms out like he had no clue what to say. I know he did, though, he just didn't want to say it.

"What has he been feeding you?" he asked, his eyes wide with bewilderment. "What has he been saying to you to make you so gullible?"

"He says that he loves me, and I fill his world with color," I responded.

Ron laughed. "He said that? He really said that? He is so full of it. I swear, Hermione, I thought you were smart."

"What are you talking about?" I asked.

"He's just using you! He doesn't _really_ like you. If he really liked you, then he wouldn't embarrass your friends in front of the school. He would respect your friends and respect that you don't want them to be embarrassed."

"Well, if _you_ really liked me, you'd respect my boyfriend!" I yelled.

"WHY DO YOU KEEP CALLING HIM THAT? HE DOESN'T LIKE YOU! GET IT THROUGH YOUR SKULL, HERMIONE, HE'S USING YOU TO GAIN THE RESPECT OF EVERY GUY IN SCHOOL! AND LET ME TELL YOU SOMETHING, IT'S NOT WORKING! BECAUSE THERE'S AT LEAST ONE PERSON'S RESPECT HE HASN'T GAINED – MINE!" Ron screamed. "EVERY GUY IN THE SCHOOL THINKS YOU'RE HOT, MYSELF INCLUDED, AND PROBABLY HIM, TOO. BUT THAT'S THE ONLY REASON HE'S STILL WITH YOU!"

"Just leave, Ron, just leave! Can't you accept that someone else got to me before you got the chance? It's not Draco's fault you're a coward and can't get up the courage to ask someone our since you were rejected by Fleur!" I cried.

This was too much. When I put Operation Jealousy into action, I had no idea it would go this far. I had thought that this was going to be a short thing, like one week long. It had turned into a lot more than that now, and there was no turning back.

He just stood there, his mouth wide open, like I had done something like what Malfoy had done.

But instead of just standing there, he moved closer to me and planted a huge kiss on my lips. I was instantaneously brought back four years in the past, to the day when he had kissed me for the first time. All this time I had thought that my love for Ron was fading, but it hadn't faded at all. I had just been in denial once I had begun to realize that my plan wasn't working. Now, it had come back to me, and it had been thrown into sharp relief. I didn't love him less – I had just forgotten. I remembered now. That kiss brought me back down to Earth, and made me realize that everything Ron had said about Malfoy was true.

"Whatever you're trying to do, Hermione, it's working," he said after we pulled away. My eyes were wide. When he had interrupted my shower, I hadn't thought that it would come to this. What was he trying to do to me?

"I think you'll find my kissing has improved since four years ago?" he said smugly, not a hint of a smile on his face. "You know, I came in here to talk to you about it, to ask you why the hell you would go out with such a bastard, who not a year ago called you a – a Mudblood. I had no intentions of verbally bashing him, only bashing him in my mind. I wasn't going to say those things to you because even though I had no idea why you would see Draco Malfoy, I didn't want to anger you. You brought this all upon yourself, Hermione."

"What are you talking about?" I asked, still shocked from the kiss.

"Once you get a boyfriend (or girlfriend, in my case), you make some serious sacrifices. I hope that when you accepted Malfoy's invitation, you considered those sacrifices. Either you didn't think that you would lose me as a friend or you just didn't care, because you did it anyways.

"Whatever you're trying to do, it's working," Ron repeated. "But I can't go around associating with you if you treat me like this. Maybe it's Malfoy's influence. Maybe you haven't only changed on the outside, but on the inside as well. I dunno what it is, but this is definitely not the Hermione I wanted to keep as more than a friend in my third year."

Without another word, he turned and walked out of the room, leaving me to internally bash myself. I had started out trying to make him jealous, and he had said it had worked. But it had overworked. It was like the end of my third year, when I watched Ron walk away with his family, knowing that what I wanted would never come true. Only now, it was about ten billion times worse.

Once you get a boyfriend, you have to make some serious sacrifices. Apparently, one of those sacrifices that I had completely overlooked was having Ron as a friend at my side.

And now, I sat there, wondering. All this time, this entire month or however long it had been, I had thought that Draco actually liked me. Did he? Or was he just going out with me to gain the respect of every other boy in the school, like Ron had said?

I knew I had to talk to someone about it. In my stupidity, I had not only lost Ron as a lover, I had lost him as a friend.

(Yes, I did just say that I was stupid.)

I knew someone who could fix my problem. I could only hope that I was not in the same boat with him, as well.

He was with Ron the next day when I found him. Of course, they were in the Gryffindor Common Room, where there was absolutely no privacy.

"I'll see you later, Ginny," he called after Ron's sister, who was disappearing behind the portrait hole. I caught a hint of a devious smile on her face as she vanished.

He looked at the watch on his wrist and said, "Damn, I'm going to be late! Ron, I've got to go. I'm meeting someone."

"You're not going after Hermione, are you?" Ron asked, a horrified look on his face.

"Of course not," he said. Just the way he said it – as if with scorn – made me realize that what I was about to do would be a lot harder than I thought.

"How could Harry go after me if I'm right here?" I asked. Four shining eyes – two bright green ones and two blue ones – snapped to me. Before anyone could protest, I blurted, "Harry I need to talk to you."

Of course, Ron completely ignored me. He just stared at Harry, as if sending a mental message to his brain warning him that if he went with me, even for two seconds, he would have some serious 'splaining to do. Harry, however, shot him a look back and whispered (though loud enough for me to hear), "Maybe we could sort things out."

Without waiting for an answer from Ron, he reluctantly replied, "I guess so."

"Thank you!" I cried, grabbing his arm and pulling him into the corner. I looked over my shoulder to see Ron slouch over and trudge to a large armchair by the fire, facing away from me.

"Alright, this is really important. I need to know what I did to make Ron so mad at me," I said the second we were far enough away that no one could hear.

"Well, think about it, Hermione. He's upset because you're dating Malfoy, and quite frankly, I can't blame him. Especially after the whole thing at lunch. I mean, your _boyfriend_ was making fun of one of your best friends, and you just watched like nothing was happening. You, of all people, should know how that feels. After all, it was only last year that Malfoy called you a Mudblood. In the second year, he wished you dead. What does that say?" Harry said.

I sighed and said, "Well, maybe he's changed."

"That's just the thing, Hermione, he hasn't! And that incident at lunch proved it! If he had changed, then he wouldn't have insulted Ron's family like that," Harry stated.

"Well, can't Ron accept that I've found somebody who likes me for me?"

"But you _haven't_, Hermione! That's just what Ron's been trying to tell you!" Harry pretty much screamed. "Malfoy only wants you because, if you don't mind me saying, you've grown some seductive curves over the summer and are suddenly the object of every guy's desire. You're like his prize. He's basically just having you next to him so that he can say, 'Look at me! Look at me! I'm Malfoy, and I've got the girl everyone wants!' Not to mention he knows he can get everything he wants from you, because he knows you're only doing it to make Ron jealous."

"I am _not_ going out with him to make Ron jealous! Why would I want to make Ron jealous?" I cried.

"Well, let's think about this. Ron admitted to me after the third year that you guys had had crushes on each other. He told me the entire story, even the part that you broke up and he didn't like you anymore. Everyone in the school could tell, though, you guys still had a thing for each other. Neither of you wanted to admit it, though, because you had a sucky relationship however long ago that was," Harry explained. "Now that it's your last year here and he still hasn't shown any signs of giving up his fight, you want to make him jealous and therefore make him come to you, because you don't want to give in either."

I just stared at him, wondering how long he spent figuring al this out.

"Both of you are just too blind to see that you liked each other all along, and you could have just admitted it and everything would have been all right. Mind you, I would have felt a little lonely, but you guys would have been happy. Then maybe I would have found a lover because I felt lonely without you guys and I needed some company.

"But instead of just telling each other, you had to go out with Malfoy and further complicate the problem. And to make matters worse, you let him insult Ron. Now you feel hurt because you were an idiot and lost the guy you were trying to make jealous. And Ron feels hurt because he thinks that you don't care about him at all, and no matter what I say, he won't listen to me. And quite frankly, I can't say I'd blame him for being mad at you, because you were (and I'm sorry to say it, but you were) a bitch."

I was still staring at him, but my mouth was open. "You knew about all of this?"

He raised his eyebrows and said, "Yeah. Ron told me about it."

"And everyone in the school can tell that we like each other?"

"Yep, pretty much."

I bit my lower lip. Tears were coming to my eyes. "And what does everyone in the school think of me, now that I, quote on quote, 'have seductive curves' and I am going out with Malfoy to make Ron jealous?"

"Do you really want to know the answer to that one?" Harry asked quietly.

I didn't know what to say. So Ron had liked me the whole time, but I was, once again, too stupid to notice. So instead of just asking him, I decided to ruin our entire relationship by going out with Malfoy.

I looked to the armchair in which Ron was sitting. He was just staring into the fire, not looking at anyone or anything. It was like he was trying to block out the world.

How is it that you don't know how to read people's emotions until after you already know how they feel?

"Look, Hermione, I've got to go. I'm meeting someone. They'll be really mad if I'm late. I'm sorry."

"No, Harry, don't leave! I need to talk to you still!"

"I'm sorry, Hermione, I've got to go!" he said. He silently turned and walked over to the armchair where Ron sat, muttered something to him, and disappeared through the portrait hole.

I stood there, alone, in the dark corner, and watched Harry walk away from me. I stared at the back of the armchair, wishing I could see through it to the heart of the person who sat there.

So in going out with Malfoy, not only had I lost Ron, but I had lost Harry, gotten a new reputation that I didn't want, and was stuck with a guy who only wanted me for sex.

My life was officially over.


	17. Most People

**Disclaimer: **Same as before

**Seventeen**

Most people would break up with their boyfriend that they didn't really love. Most people would say something to the person they did love. Most people wouldn't sit around all day and mope, but still pretend to love their boyfriend whenever he called their name.

But I am not most people.

Instead, I stayed with Draco and took everything he dished out. I pretended to be mad at Ron because it hurt to look at him. I sat around all day and moped, and still pretended I loved Draco whenever he called my name.

I am not most people.

Not only was I in it bad with Ron, but everyone else in Gryffindor hated me, as well. Harry kind of had to be on Ron's side, otherwise he'd lose his best friend. I suppose I saw where he came from, but I still wished I could socialize with him without Ron saying something like, "Harry, why are you talking to the air?"

All the girls in Gryffindor hated me for two reasons – because most of the guys they liked liked me, and because I had treated Ron like such dirt. I was so shallow, so easy to see right through. And yet, I hadn't seen through myself.

The only person who didn't seem to hate me entirely was Ginny.

"I mean, I guess I was kind of mean and slutty and everything, but that doesn't mean that I don't like Ron. And is it that obvious that I do? Can you really see through me that easily?" I bombarded her with questions.

"Well, it is kind of obvious that you do, because you always have to cover up for everything you say to him, and you always are talking to me about how you wish he'd understand and everything. AS for seeing right through you . . ."

For that question, she had no answer. I knew what that meant.

What really broke my heart was what happened a couple weeks later, after the initial fight. I thought Ron had gotten a bit better, but it was just the big breath before the plunge. After that, I seriously considered dropping everything.

When he walked into the Great Hall arm in arm with Parvati, I could have killed him.

There was a Hogsmeade visit that weekend. I planned on going with Draco, meeting up with Ron in the Three Broomsticks pub, and getting the dirt on what was going on between them. So when I asked him if he wanted to go to Hogsmeade, he was more than delighted. So was I.

I stealthily followed Ron around the village until he went into the Three Broomsticks. I asked Draco if he wanted to go in, and when he said he did, we followed after the couple. I purposely sat down at a table nearby.

"I'll go get the Butterbeer," Draco said. As he walked away, I waltzed over to their table.

"Hey, Ron. Hi, Parvati," I said cheerily. They both looked at me – Ron with anger in his eyes because I had ruined his moment with his new girl and Parvati with no expression in hers whatsoever.

"So, when did you guys become a couple?" I asked, leaving my elbows down on the table. I noticed how Ron was holding her hand.

"Ron asked me out three days ago. I just couldn't believe it. I was too happy to say no. After all, how could I refuse such a wonderful date?" Parvati squealed. She turned to Ron and kissed him gently. I almost puked. How could she kiss my man?

At that precise moment, Draco came over with two large tankards of Butterbeer.

"What are you doing over here, babe?" he asked me.

"Nothing, I was just talking to Ron and Parvati."

"Oh. Well then, let's go and have our drinks, shall we?" he said.

"One second – I'd just like to talk to Ron alone for a moment." Without giving him a second to answer, I grabbed Ron's arm and pulled him away from the table and into a dark corner of the pub.

"Since when have you become interested in Parvati?" I asked nosily.

"Since a week or so ago when I looked at her and realized how pretty she was, how she kept her skirts to a reasonable height and was still able to show off her amazing legs, unlike some people I know," Ron snickered.

"Oh, so are you saying I don't have amazing legs, or my skirts are too short?"

"Both."

My eyes narrowed as I snapped, "Well, Ron, you were pretty much making out with her in public! That's not something the Ron I know would do!"

"Oh, come on, Hermione, it was just a peck. Besides," he said loftily, "can't you accept that I've found someone who likes me for me?"

My mouth dropped open. He was mocking me!

"That's it, Ron Weasley. You wanted a chance at me, you had your chance. You gave me your kiss. Now you've lost the chance. And don't expect another one!"

I simply stormed out of the pub and back towards Hogwarts without even giving Draco an explanation why. Most people would have given him an explanation.

But I am not most people.


	18. Cry

**Disclaimer: **Take a wild guess.

**Eighteen**

Crying is for when you are lost, confused – when you don't know what to do or where to go or who to turn to. Crying is for when you're all alone, and you have no shoulder to lean on and bury your head in, no hand to squeeze when the world is closing in around you. Crying is for when everything seems to be against you, and you don't know who you are anymore. I suppose that's why I cried.

Many people don't want to cry because they think it shows that they are weak. Guys almost never cry. They think it makes them look immature. But that's not true. Because if you cry, it shows that you are mature enough to admit when things are wrong. If you cry, it will sometimes help. Sometimes, when large tears leak from your eyes, you actually grow stronger. Sometimes, it will help you to calm down to let off some steam. Sometimes, as you cry, you will start to realize why you're crying and you will think of some way to fix the problem. And sometimes, as you cry, you will forget the world.

Sometimes, though, crying doesn't help. Sometimes, it will make things worse. Sometimes, you will get so angry that you will block out the world. Sometimes, you will start throwing things, or you will say things to people you never would have said if you weren't so sad, if you weren't so angry, if you weren't crying. Sometimes, when you cry, it makes things worse than if you hadn't cried at all.

I don't really know why I cried. I suppose it was because I had thought that Operation Jealousy would make Ron like me, when really all it did was make things worse. Instead of him realizing how much I loved him and how much he really loved me in return, it made him realize how black my heart had become and how beauty was vain. It made him realize that my looks weren't the only thing that had changed over the summer. And it made me realize it, too.

Now, all I had left to hold on to was a boyfriend who said he loved me, but everyone else said he didn't. Maybe that's what kept me going – all the sweet things he ever said to me, all the times he kissed me. Maybe that was what I was holding on to. But for all I knew, it was like chasing the moon.

"Does he love me?" I asked myself every so often as I cried. I don't know why I cared. Perhaps it was because if he did, he was the only one left, and if he didn't, then I had no one. Perhaps it was because if he didn't, then I would cry even more, and this time, I'd have no shoulder to cry on.

What had made me cry? I asked myself that night at four o'clock in the morning as I listened to Draco pacing in the next room over. Was it because of what he did? Where he touched me? What he said? What he told me about Ron? Or was it because I had come to realize that both he and Ron were slowly slipping out from between my fingers?

I had thought that the second I left Hogsmeade, he would come and find me. I had thought that he wouldn't stay that long. I had thought wrong.

Draco came back with everyone else. By that time, I had begun my rounds. He, of course was excused in the eyes of the teachers, as he was at Hogsmeade. A kid has to have fun every so often, right? But he was anything but excused in my book. What kind of boyfriend watches his girlfriend run away, practically in tears, and just sits there for hours in a pub drinking Butterbeer and getting more drunk by the second?

"Where were you?" I asked when he walked in at three o'clock in the morning after just having to finish the rounds he had to make up.

"Doing my rounds . . . d'you mind, doll?" he said hotly.

"Yes, I do. I've been waiting up for you as you sat there getting drunk at the Three Broomsticks, while I was up here, crying my eyes out!" I exclaimed.

"Oh, babe, I'm sorry. Why are you so upset?" he asked, walking over to me and putting his arm around my waist.

"Oh, Ron's just being . . . mean," I said quietly.

"Come on, doll, do you still hang out with that loser, Weasley? All he ever did was lower your social status. You hung out with guys like him, and you were a loser, too. You start hanging up with me, and suddenly everyone wants you. See what it does to you?" Draco said nonchalantly.

"Did you just call me a loser?"

Draco's eyes widened as he said, "Of course not! I called the old Hermione a loser. Why on Earth would I call my girlfriend a loser?"

"Well, maybe you didn't call me a loser, but you did say that about Ron. He's my friend, Draco! You have to understand that!" I said defensively.

"I do, I do, I just don't necessarily approve of your friends."

"Well, I don't necessarily approve of you not approving of my friends!"

He smiled his sexy little smile, kissed me hotly on the lips, and said, "I'm sorry, alright, doll?"

I opened my mouth, a hint of a grin on my face. But he didn't wait for me to speak. He simply leaned into me and continued kissing me. I felt his tongue prodding at my lips, so I parted them and let him in. There was something about his kiss that was different, not exactly the way I wanted it to be. But I brushed it aside.

As soon as we pulled away from each other, I said, "Let me get on my pajamas – it's late and we should be getting to sleep."

"Sleep? I don't think so. It's three o'clock in the morning, you just kissed me like a hot chick, and there's no one else around. We don't have time to sleep. We're too busy."

My heart stopped. I knew what he was hinting at, and I didn't want it. I proceeded to enter my bedroom, smiling slightly. He simply followed me.

"What are you saying, young man?" I asked.

"We're too busy to sleep. I don't know what your agenda is, but mine is completely full for tonight. You are booked in for every second of immense pleasure," Draco drawled.

He didn't even give me a chance to speak again before he started up with the kissing. But somehow, when he kissed me, I lost all sense of time and space and everything that was around me or what he was trying to get at. It grew more intense as his hands moved from my back to my waist and slowly began climbing up. I was gradually becoming more aware of what was happening, but I was still to deeply entranced to notice.

I did notice, however, when I felt my shirt being unbuttoned more than the original three I had unbuttoned at the top. Now, there were four . . . five . . . six . . . until I was lying there, on the bed, with my shirt completely open. He could see my bra. And I could see where this was going.

I put my hands on his chest in a feeble attempt to get him off, but he must have taken it the wrong way, because his hands began sliding from my shoulders and closer and closer to _my_ chest. I couldn't take it anymore. I ripped away from him and pushed him off me completely.

"What's wrong, doll? All I want is a little bit of you," he said.

"What's wrong? What's wrong? Draco, we're only seventeen! I don't want to end up pregnant tonight!" I shouted.

"D'you want me to grab the condoms? I have a box of extra heavy in the bathroom –"

"NO! That's exactly my point! I'm not ready for this, Draco!" I yelled at him. "This is one of my first real relationships. Up until this year, I've only been kissed a couple of times. That's why I've been so leary about everything. And not to mention that we've only been going out for a month or two! I'm just not ready!"

"Well, Hermione, I can teach you everything you need to know," he said, advancing on me. "You know you want me to."

"No, I don't! Don't you get it, Draco?" I said, pushing him away. "I am not ready for sex!"

He just stared at me, as though I had grown an extra head. "What d'you mean, you're not ready for sex? You're seventeen, Hermione! Maybe it's time you grew up!"

"Or maybe it's time _you_ grew up! Just because you get your way with your father constantly and every girl in Slytherin wants you – probably even more than that – and almost every girl would have sex with you if they could doesn't mean that I will! I like you and all, but I'm just not ready!" I screamed.

Without another word, he simply walked out of the room and slammed the door, leaving me on the bed with only my bra covering my chest. I breathed a sigh of relief. That was _way_ too close for comfort.

But then I got even more worried. It was bad enough that I had just gotten into a huge fight, but now I might lose the only person I had who still liked me. Maybe I would turn into a miserable old maid with nothing to do but sit around and feel sorry for herself. Maybe I would never have any more friends as long as I lived.

And so as I lay there, with only my bra covering my chest, I cried to myself. Because I had no other shoulder to cry on.


	19. But it's About Malfoy!

**Disclaimer: **Not mine.

**Nineteen**

I sat up all night listening to him pacing in the other room, cursing my and my stubbornness. I thought that it was over for sure. I thought that I had lost all chances of friendship with anyone, or maybe that I didn't really have anyone to begin with. And that's why I was crying.

But I woke up the next morning (I think I only slept an hour before I had to be in class) to find Draco sitting on the edge of my bed.

"What d'you want?" I asked sleepily.

"Oh, doll, I'm sorry. I didn't really want to push you farther than you wanted to go. I suppose I can understand that you weren't ready. After all, you'd never had a boyfriend before I plucked you out of obscurity," he said.

I wanted to shout at him, "I did too have a boyfriend! And he was a hell of a lot better to me than you are!" I wanted to tell him off for saying that he "plucked me out of obscurity." I wasn't _that_ dull before, was I? I had to at least have been a _little_ noticeable; otherwise there wouldn't have been a Viktor _or_ a Ron. But I couldn't say anything. Otherwise, my entire life would be flushed down the toilet.

"Now come on, let's get dressed. You've got Ancient Runes."

"What do you have?" I asked.

"Oh, I have a free period. I'm going to do some homework and visit some friends," he replied simply.

"Alright, I suppose. I'll see you tonight at dinner."

He just turned and walked away, as though my reply didn't matter to him at all.

"Of course not, Hermione, that's the stupidest thing I've ever heard. If you didn't matter to him, why would he be dating you?" I asked myself after he walked away. I shook the thought out of my mind and began getting dressed.

After all of my classes were over, I ran to the Great Hall for dinner. I had been anxious to see Draco all day. For some odd reason, I had the feeling that he wasn't just doing homework and visiting friends in his free class time.

I was so lost in my own thoughts that I didn't notice a shadow coming up behind me until the shadow touched me on the shoulder.

"Hermione!" he cried. I jumped a foot in the air at the sound of his voice.

"Goodness, Ron, you scared me half to death!" I said, putting my hand on my heart.

"I need to talk to you," he said quickly and quietly. "Come with me."

"I can't! Anyways, you're probably just going to gloat at me some more about you and Parvati. How is she, Ron? Is she a better kisser than I was?" I sneered.

"You're the one who had a problem with my kissing! I said nothing about yours!" he exclaimed. I bit my lip – I knew he was right about that one.

"Well, I can't talk now. I have to go find Draco, so if you'll excuse me –"

Ron put his arm out to stop me. "But that's exactly who I wanted to speak with you about!"

"What, have you come to put him down some more? I can tell you, Ron, just because I got a boyfriend before you got a girlfriend doesn't mean that you have any right to be mean!" I sniggered. "And I'll tell you, I am perfectly happy the way I am, and I don't need anyone else! Not you, not Harry, not even Ginny! I can live without all of you, as long as I have Draco! Now, move!"

"B-b-but, Hermione!" he shouted as I walked through the double doors to the Great Hall. I saw Draco waiting for me. He gave me a smile and motioned for me to sit. Next to him, however, was Pansy.

"What is she doing here?" I whispered in his ear when I sat down.

"Oh, don't worry about it, doll! It's not like I haven't seen you with Weasley all the time! Who cares that I have a girlfriend besides you?" My mouth dropped open at the last comment. He shook his head and said, "Sorry, that didn't come out right. I mean, who cares that I have another girl who is _just a friend_ besides you?"

"Whatever, Draco," I said, and I dug into my plate.

The rest of the day went on fairly smoothly, as did the next few days. Draco didn't do anything beyond my comfort level. Now that I think about it, he didn't really do much at all. Mostly all I got was a kiss before I went to sleep.

I knew something was wrong. I just didn't want to admit it to myself.


	20. Doll

**Disclaimer: **Same . . . why do I bother . . . ?

**Twenty**

What if one night, I laid my head on my pillow – the same pillow that smelled of Crookshanks' fur and was scratchy like a cactus – and woke up on something that smelled fruity, like my hair after just having taken a shower, and was soft as cashmere against my cheek? What if I disappeared under my blanket after a long day's work, a day where I wanted everything to go away, only to emerge from it and find that the world had transformed around me? What if one night, my entire life had changed?

Sometimes, I did wish that. Sometimes, I would lie in bed and listen to Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle sniggering in the next room over and rethink the entire year. Had I been right in beginning Operation Jealousy? Did Draco really like me? Did everyone think I was a slut, a whore, a prostitute at Hogwarts? Did I even know who I was anymore?

And I'd answer myself, "Of course you know who you are. You're Hermione Granger. You're beautiful, smart, strong, and every guy in the school is in love with you. Ron is included in that everyone, and someday, maybe this living hell will pay off."

The night I found out was one of those nights.

"Looks like we'll have to make our rounds separately tonight, doll," Draco said, reading through the schedule.

"Oh, that's alright, I'll just meet you here at midnight. Does that sound good?" I asked nonchalantly.

Draco looked at me nervously and stammered, "M-midnight? D-don't you think that's a little l-late?"

"If it is, it sure didn't stop you this weekend at three o'clock," I said airily, remembering our fight the past weekend which I was sure had ended Operation Jealousy.

"Well, erm, why midnight? I'll be _so_ tired – in fact, I'll probably be asleep by the time you get back," he stuttered. "Yeah, I bet I will . . . don't even bother to wake me. I'm so tired."

"Alright then . . . I'll talk to you tomorrow," I said. I should have known then and there. I should have known that something was wrong just by the way he talked to me – the way he stammered, the way his voice sounded nervous and unsure. But for once in my life, I had lost the ability to read between the lines.

I came back from my rounds a little bit after midnight and got into my pajamas – a pair of blue plaid flannel pants and a blue cami – braided my hair, and decided to pop in and see how Draco was. After all, he was adorable when he slept.

Slowly, I opened the door to his bedroom and peeked inside. A lump, covered by blankets, lay on the bed. I smiled to myself as I walked over to the lump. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, I peeled back the covers . . . only to find a pile of pillows where Draco was supposed to lie.

The truth hit me like a ton of bricks and knocked me off my feet. In that instant, I knew what had happened – why he had stammered, why he pretended to be asleep. I didn't know why, but my heart stopped beating. I knew exactly what to do.

"Wendolyn the Weird," I recited hurriedly to the Fat Lady, who was asleep in her portrait.

"Still awake at this hour?" she asked, opening the portrait to me. I ignored her and sped through the hole.

The second I entered the Common Room, Ron appeared. "Where have you been? I've been looking for you all night!"

"Y-you have?" I asked, blushing. But then I remembered my mission and said boldly, "Where's the Map?"

Ron looked at me quizzically and said, "What map?"

"The Marauder's Map! Where is the Marauder's Map?" I cried. Ron opened his mouth to speak, but Harry descended the stairs to the Boy's Dormitory in that second.

"Harry!" I shouted, running to him. I started taking off his bathrobe.

"Hermione? What the bloody hell are you doing?" Ron asked, concern in his voice. "Why are you stripping him?"

"Shut up, Ron," I snapped. I rummaged through the pockets of the robe until my hands closed around something. The two boys exchanged looks. I took out the piece of parchment and opened it.

"_I solemnly swear that I am up to no good,_" I recited. As names and dots began appearing, I muttered, "Come on, quickly, quickly! Where's Malfoy? Where's Draco Malfoy?"

Ron's eyes widened at those words. He sprang over to me and tried to take the map, but I slapped his hand away.

"Hermione, you can't see that!" he cried.

"Stop it Ron, just stop! I _need_ to see this!"

"B-but Hermione –"

He stopped in mid-sentence, because I had clamped my hand over his mouth. "For once in your life, Ronald Weasley, it would be best if you just shut up and didn't butt into other people's business! Personally, I don't care whether or not you want me to look at the map, because no matter what you say, I'm looking anyways!"

And I took my hand off his mouth. He didn't even wipe it off like he usually would have done because he was so stunned. And so was I. Because in that moment, we both saw a small dot labeled "Draco Malfoy" appear in a small, enclosed room. And next to it was another small dot:

"Pansy Parkinson."

"No . . ." I whispered. I dropped the Map on to the floor as though it were a poisonous snake, but then began to stomp on it.

"Hermione, what are you doing?" Harry bellowed, reaching for the Map but jerking away every time I pounded it into the ground.

"Don't you get it?" I screamed, tears streaming from my face. "He cheated on me! He's making out with Pansy in a closet at this very second!"

"You don't know that! He could just be . . . talking to her . . . or telling her a secret or something," Ron stammered.

"He's not, Ron, and you know it! Would he be telling her something that close?" I shrieked.

"Oh, 'Mione . . ." he whispered, reaching out to me. I, however, turned away.

"I need to go find him," I said through clenched teeth.

"D'you want me to come?" Ron asked quickly. "I swear, Hermione, I will hit him so hard, he'll have to –"

"No! No, I don't need you, I don't need anyone! Just leave me alone!"

I ran out of the portrait hole, my heart pounding furiously, towards the closet in which Pansy and Malfoy were locked.

Ginny came running down the stairs to the Girl's Dormitory the second she heard the screaming. She knew that voice. She just didn't know why it was so upset. And she wasn't sure she wanted to know why either.

When she arrived at the Common Room, Harry's mouth was hanging open and Ron was clutching the Marauder's Map, his finger tracing the Hallways.

"There she goes . . ." he murmured. "Damn, she's fast."

"What happened?" Ginny cried.

"Ginny? What are you doing up this late?" Harry exclaimed.

"I heard shouting. _What happened_?" she demanded.

"Hermione found out," Ron said in barely more than a whisper.

"_Found out what?!_"

"Malfoy cheated on her."

Ginny's eyes widened. She turned to look at Harry, her mouth fallen open as his had been. "No! He couldn't have! He couldn't hurt Hermione like that! He –"

But Harry simply stood there, gnawing on his lower lip, his head nodding up and down.

"Oh, Harry!" she cried. She flung her arms around his neck and he put a comforting arm around her as well. "How could he do that to her?"

"I don't know, Ginny. I just don't know."

"What's going on here?" a voice called from the stairs. "I heard shouting, then the next thing I knew, Ginny was down here . . ."

"Parvati, Malfoy cheated on Hermione with Pansy," Ron said quickly, as though he was trying to get the words out of his mouth quickly.

"That's horrible! Should I find her?" Parvati asked.

"No, the last thing she needs now is you – no offense, of course," Harry mumbled. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go bring Ginny up to bed."

As they watched Harry escort Ginny upstairs, Ron muttered, "What is _up_ with them? He's been acting strangely all year!"

"I know, and they claim not to be going out . . ." Parvati trailed off.

Ron gulped and said, "Actually, Parvati, that's what I wanted to talk to you about. Going out, I mean."

Parvati smiled slightly, nodded, and said, "Yeah, let me guess – you still like Hermione, right?"

"Yeah," he sighed, adding quickly when he realized what he had said, "Wait – what do you mean _still_? And how did you know?"

"Everyone can tell, Ron, you've had a crush on Hermione for, like, ever. We've all been waiting for you to ask her out, but you just never did. To be honest, I was surprised when you asked _me_ out instead. Then I figured out why and I thought that if true love was the cause, I definitely wanted to help out."

"Figured out what?" Ron said defiantly.

"Oh, Ron, you're so naïve . . ." Parvati said. "You're in denial. You realized that Hermione didn't like you, so you forced yourself to believe that you didn't like her either. And so you asked me out to further make yourself believe it. But in your heart you knew that you liked her, and so when you found out that Malfoy dumped her and you had a chance, you let it out into the daylight. Now you're dumping me because you have a chance with Hermione again.

"And not only are you naïve because you couldn't tell that you were in denial, you're naïve not to see that she's only going out with Malfoy to make you jealous in the first place," Parvati finished.

"Wow," Ron said. "How do you know all this?"

"It's happened to me a couple of times before."

"And how do you know that she wants to make me jealous? Why can't she just ask me? It's not like I have forty other girls tailing after me all the time," he said.

"Well, that's because she's scared. And when you really love someone, sometimes you're too blind to see that the other person you're in love with loves you back. Think about it, Ron – she _always_ blushed when you say something sweet, she fights with you constantly to try and cover it up, and she always has to cover up for things she does or says that might make you think that she likes you. She's just protecting her feelings," Parvati explained.

Ron looked like he could have kissed her. "Oh, I'm so glad you understand." He gave her a friendly hug before they both said goodnight.

As Parvati trudged upstairs to the Girl's Dormitory, Ron felt his heart swell to about four times its usual size. He reached into the pocket of his bathrobe and pulled out a small, square-shaped box. As he leaned back into the armchair and pressed the box to his chest, he felt a new sense of determination. He now knew that no one stood in his way.

I ran down the dark corridors, not caring what portraits protested at the light I shined on them. I just needed to see it to believe it.

Wand out in front of me, a dim light shining on the floor, my heart stopped when I realized I was in front of the wooden door to where Malfoy was. I looked at the structure in front of me, my chest heaving. Slowly, I reached for the doorknob, and with a courage somewhere within me I didn't know I possessed, wrenched open the door.

Sure enough, there was Draco, his lips locked with Pansy's his hand creeping up her shirt.

"You bloody bastard," I shouted. He abruptly broke away from Pansy, who let out sort of a girly shriek, and made a move towards me in hopes of changing my mind, but I simply let out all my anger in a resounding slap. Pansy squeaked and clapped her hands to her mouth, and Draco clutched his cheek.

In looking back on the year, I realized that I had slapped him more than once. If he had really loved me, he wouldn't have done anything to make me slap him. And I knew that, somewhere within my soul. Why, then, was I so hurt?

"Hermione, it's not what you think!" he said, still pressing his hand to his cheek. Pansy put her arms around him in comfort, but he hissed, "Get off!"

"What else could it be? You're _making out with her!_ And you were feeling her up! How could you think you could treat me like this?"

"Well, it's your own fault! You didn't give me the action I wanted –"

"Action?!" I roared. "ACTION? IF YOU REALLY LOVED ME, THEN YOU WOULDN'T CARE HOW FAR I WANTED TO GO! YOU WOULD RESPECT MY BOUNDARIES AND NOT GO ANY FURTHER THAN I WANTED!"

"Well you know what, babe? Did it ever occur to you that maybe I don't love you!" Malfoy hissed. "Now, if you'll excuse me . . ."

And just as simply as that, he continued making out with Pansy. And he was so plain about it that I could see his tongue transferring from his mouth to hers.

I couldn't take it anymore. I whipped out my wand and shouted, "_Rictusempra!_" Malfoy was hurled backwards into the wall, bashing his head against the shelves in the closet. Pansy screamed.

"How could you!" she shrieked, moving towards me. I kept my wand out in front of me and she stopped dead.

"I know many more curses worse than that, babe, so you better stay back!" I hissed. She did. I turned and ran.

I wished more than anything that I could go back to my old room – the Gryffindor Girl's Dormitory. But I couldn't go there. If I went there, I would be questioned and people would try and talk to me and I'd miss my rounds and be in even more trouble than I had wanted. So I was forced to flee to my private bedroom, to lock the doors with every charm I could think of to keep them locked – even one to lock the doors to the bathroom.

I just flopped down on my bed and let the tears spill from my eyes like raindrops from a thundercloud. Tonight was one of those nights where I wanted the world to be different when I awoke. Then I wouldn't have to deal with Malfoy anymore. I could be the old Hermione, the one everyone claims that Ron liked, the one he really did like, the Hermione I really was – not the short-skirted, low-cut, tear-streaked Hermione I had become.

And Ron, oh, Ron. What about Ron? He probably thought it served me right, especially after I pushed him away when he tried to comfort me. That was one of the pros of a different world – Ron would no longer hate me. He was tearing away at me bit by bit. Every time I locked eyes with him, my heart stopped. He had this pleading look about them that made me want to reach out and kill all of his troubles. But that was exactly what ate at me – I couldn't.

But in this alternate universe I had created in my mind, if there was no Ron, how would I live? He had given me something to strive for when I had always been perfect in everything else. All he had to do to cheer me up was acknowledge my existence in a positive manner, and a smile made my day. He was a comfort to me, a reason I had to live. And he was the reason for Operation Jealousy in the first place. I realized that no, I didn't want this other world – I was much better off with Ron hating me than without him at all.

So as I cried myself to sleep that night, my mascara leaking on to my pillow that smelled of Crookshank's fur and was scratchy like a cactus, my hair tousled from kicking and pounding, I did not dream of another world – just a better one.


	21. Dear Ginny

**Disclaimer: **Same crap as before . . .

**Author's Note:** This part is in 3rd Person point of view, through Ginny's eyes. I hope it's not too confusing for you . . .

**Twenty-One**_  
_

_Dear Ginny,_

_I don't know what I'd do without you. I mean, you're probably never going to read this, because if you're as angry at me as everyone else is, you're never going to speak to me again. At least I have a way to get my feelings out without the trouble of knowing my words could be spread throughout the school._

_My whole life, he has acknowledged me as Hermione, the know-it-all; Hermione, the Muggle-Born whom Malfoy makes fun of; Hermione, the bookworm. It was never anything more than that. I didn't want to love him as more than what I did. I didn't want to give him a reason to love me back. I guess everything took over and I lost myself in my quest._

_You've been there with me the entire time. You were like my diary – someone I could tell all my thoughts and feelings to. And you've kept my secrets for all this time. You've known about how I feel about your brother, and I can trust that every time I said something mushy and lovey-dovey about him or whatever, you'd hurl inside. But at the same time, you tolerated all my love talk. Now, before I leave this school a wise young woman ready to face the world as an adult, I need you one last time._

_What did I do wrong?_

_Well, that's a stupid question. I know exactly what I did wrong. The first thing I did wrong was to break up with Ron in the first place. Well, maybe that was okay. After all, I was only thirteen, and we were bound to break up sometime._

_The second thing I did wrong was to start going out with Malfoy. You knew about Operation Jealousy, and I know you didn't approve of it, but you went along with me anyways. I was a stupid, lovesick fool who was too blind to see what I had. I could have just looked across the room and seen him standing there and known that everything would be okay, but I wasn't that smart._

_The third thing I did wrong was to take it as far as I did. It was bad enough that I went out with Malfoy in the first place, but I didn't have to let Malfoy corrupt my life. I mean, I let the bastard (yes, I did just cuss) make fun of the person I was trying to get in the first place! That was probably the stupidest thing I've ever done. And now, it's all over._

_Harry hates me because I hurt Ron. Malfoy doesn't hate me exactly, but he cheated on me, and that's a huge blow to the pride. I'm not sure if you hate me, but if you're following along with everyone else's example, you definitely do. All the Gryffindors hated me to begin with because I dared kiss a Slytherin, and worse, that Slytherin was Malfoy. And, of course, Ron hates me. Do I even need to say why?_

_I suppose that's all I can say without going into the details. I just want to make it clear that I realize how truly wrong I was, and how in dating Malfoy, I lost the most faithful lover and the truest friend I could ever have. So if I leave this school a sad young woman who keeps to herself, you'll know that I've always appreciated you, and you'll know that no matter what happened this year, I am still the same person inside._

_Love always,_

_Hermione_

Upon reading the letter that was placed on her bed that morning, Ginny Weasley was torn. She wanted to help her friend, but she also wanted to stay true to her brother's wishes, which were clear that he did not want anyone associating with Hermione. After all, she had broken his heart. What was she to do? The letter cried out to her, as though her friend was pleading for her assistance.

"Ginny? What are you doing up there?" a voice called from the Common Room. It was a voice she recognized as Harry's.

"I'll be down in a minute!"

"Hurry up!"

Hastily, Ginny threw the creased piece of parchment into the pocket of her robes, fixed her hair in the mirror, and ran downstairs to join her beau.

"What took you so long?" Harry asked in a hushed tone. "I've been waiting for you."

Ginny smiled to herself and said, "I just had a note on my bed I was reading."

"From whom?" Harry asked.

She smiled again, put a finger to his lips and said, "Never you mind. Now, are we going to go outside or aren't we?"

"Of course we are. Here, put the Cloak on. Remember, this is against school rules . . . it's long after dark . . ."

Harry threw the cloak over Ginny and together they snuck out of the castle. As they walked, Ginny felt Harry's hand on her back, guiding her through the castle. She knew the way, of course – she had been out a couple of times with Michael Corner. Of course, they hadn't gotten far since they had no Invisibility Cloak, but she still knew the way. She didn't mind him guiding her, though – she liked his presence.

They broke out of the castle as quietly as they could and closed the large doors behind them.

"We're out," Harry murmured. "Nice sneaking. No offense, but I didn't think you'd be able to keep quiet."

"Hey!" Ginny cried, slapping his arm playfully.

"Come on; let's get farther away from here. We don't want to be seen by one of the teachers through a window or something," Harry said. He took off the Cloak so that it would be easier to run. Gently, he took her hand and brought her far away towards the lake where no one could see them.

Once they reached the lake, Harry took out his wand and conjured a large blanket. He motioned for her to sit and said, "Ladies first."

Ginny giggled and said, "Why, thank you, young man." She plopped herself down on the blanket, and he sat down next to her. She slid over closer to him and gently laid her head on his shoulder.

"Oh, Harry, I didn't think we'd ever get together. Especially after my first year," she sighed.

"Well, you said you'd gotten over me just when I started to realize I liked you, so I didn't have the courage to do anything about it. And then the dance came, and you were dateless, and so I just . . . I dunno, I guess I just got brave. I'll tell you, Ginny, of all the scary situations I've been in, asking you out was the scariest," Harry replied.

"Really? Why?" Ginny asked.

"Well, I didn't know if you'd say yes. Do you know how nerve-wracking that is, standing there and wondering if you will be rejected or not? It's a huge blow to the pride if you are. I know, trust me," Harry said, recalling the time in his fourth year when he asked Cho Chang to the Yule Ball.

"Well, Mister Potter, I am quite glad you overcame your fears," Ginny said.

Harry smiled gently and looked deeply into her eyes. This was truly what he wanted. He leaned into her and kissed her. She accepted his kiss, and even kissed him back. He put his hand on her neck and compelled her to keep going, and she did.

Once it was over, he laid down on the grass and Ginny laid her head on his chest. She felt the gentle rise and fall, the steady pulsation of his heartbeat.

"Oh, I dunno what we're going to do if your brother finds out," Harry murmured.

"Honestly, I thought he'd be okay with it, but after the way he looked at us at the Ball . . ." Ginny continued.

Suddenly, she remembered the note in her pocket. She sat bolt upright so quickly that Harry jumped.

"Is something wrong?" he asked.

"Speaking of Ron, I need you to read something," Ginny said, whipping the note from her pocket. She threw it to Harry, who read it with wide eyes.

"Hermione wrote this?" he asked. Ginny nodded and Harry said, "Wow. She went out with Malfoy to make Ron jealous? And you knew about it? Why didn't you stop it?"

"Because. I just wanted her to be happy. She was so intent on doing this. It wasn't necessarily Malfoy she was going to go out with. It was just that he asked her out at the Ball, and she thought it would be the perfect opportunity. I tried to talk her out of it, but she wouldn't listen," Ginny said quietly. "I feel like I should show this to Ron, but . . . I dunno. I'm afraid Hermione will be mad at me."

"She doesn't have to know," Harry said deviously.

"What?"

"We just tell Ron to read it, but not to mention it to Hermione. He'll keep his word. I agree with you that he has to read it – maybe he can patch up the hole they ripped in their friendship."

Ginny stared at him and said, "Wow. That was really poetic, Harry."

"You didn't know I went that deep, huh?"

"No, I didn't."

Harry sighed and said, "Well, we'll give it to him in the morning. For now, let's just worry about us."

Ginny pocketed the note and laid back down on Harry's chest. This was why she loved him – he was always able to help her out with her problems, even if they seemed petty to him.

"This is definitely the most pleasurable position I have ever taken," she murmured.


	22. Slut?

**Disclaimer: **This is getting old . . .

**Author's Note:** Once again, this chapter is in Ginny's POV, just for the purposes of the story. If it bugs you, oh well. It makes for something a bit more interesting than just talking about poor old Hermione.

**Twenty-Two**

Ginny awoke the next morning, her head spinning. She had just had the most romantic night of her life with the guy she loved. They had lain there and looked at the stars, making wishes on the falling ones. She remembered this one star that had been shining brighter than the others.

"Look, Harry," she had said. "See that big, bright star up there? That's our star."

He clasped her hand tightly as she gazed up into the night sky. "It may be your star, but it's not mine." She looked back at him, his bright green eyes searing through her soul. "I'm looking at my star."

She couldn't help but kiss him. She knew that her mother always said, "Just because a guy knows the right things to say doesn't mean there's any feeling behind it." She knew she always said that. But there was something about the way he looked at her, the way he kissed her that made her realize that there was more to that look than just a handsome face.

But not only did she remember the sweet things he said to her, she remembered the note that she had received from Hermione earlier in the night. Ginny couldn't imagine how horribly she felt at the moment. She knew she had to give the note to Ron.

After dressing and fixing her hair (Ginny never wore make-up – she thought it was a pain, and Harry said she looked beautiful without it anyways), she ran down to the Common Room to find Ron. She didn't find her brother, but she did find her boyfriend.

"Good morning," he said, yawning. "You as tired as I am?"

"Yes, but we've got more important things to worry about. Where's Ron?"

"I dunno. I woke up this morning and he wasn't there. I have no clue where he could be, though," Harry said quietly. "You want to give him the note, don't you?"

"Yeah. I think he needs to see it. We both know he likes Hermione, and we both know she likes him. They're both just too angry at each other at the moment to see it for themselves," Ginny said.

"Let's use the Map," Harry replied. He rummaged through his pockets and pulled out the old piece of parchment.

"C'mere, so no one can see . . ." he whispered.

He grabbed her arm and pulled her under the invisibility cloak. He kissed her – long and deep. When they pulled away, she asked, "Was that all?"

"Well, no – I don't want anyone to see the Map. But if I hadn't wanted to kiss you so badly, then I would have just done it in the open," he said, smiling. He tapped the Map and whispered, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." Instantly, small dots appeared on the surface of the parchment. Two pairs of eyes searched the Map for a name they both knew. They found it, standing next to a wall. On the other side of the wall, a dot reading _Hermione Granger_ sat on a bed.

"He's outside the Head Girl Dormitory. What the hell is he doing there?"

"I don't know," Ginny replied. "I suppose he's waiting for Hermione to come out so he can strangle her or something. Come on, let's go."

The two took off the Invisibility Cloak and headed over to where Ron was standing on the other side of Hermione's Door. Sure enough, there he was, his hand in his pocket, closed around a square-shaped box.

"Ron, what are you doing here?" Harry asked quizzically.

"Honestly . . . I dunno," Ron replied, shrugging. "What's the use?"

"Ron, we thought you should see this – it's from Hermione," Ginny said, pulling out the note. "She left it on my bed last night. It was meant for me, but I think you should read it."

"Why?" he asked, taking the piece of parchment and turning it over.

"It concerns you," Harry said slowly.

Ron shrugged and began reading the note. The farther he got, the wider his eyes became. Once he had finished, he said, "She wrote this about _me_?"

"Well, sort of. I mean, she wrote it about herself, but it concerned you," Ginny said.

"But . . . I thought she hated me."

"She thought you hated her. No offense or anything, but when you guys get angry, you're kind of scary. And you seemed like you were angry a lot this year. You guys said some things to each other that shouldn't have been said. We're just . . ." Harry trailed off.

"We're just nervous because we don't want to see the perfect couple destroyed," Ginny finished.

"The perfect couple?" Ron asked.

"Of course. Everyone thinks so. No one ever believed that you hated Hermione. You guys have had a thing for each other for years. We're all surprised you haven't gone out yet," she said.

Ron bit his lower lip and said, "Well, actually Ginny, there's something you don't know . . ."

Ginny's eyes grew larger as she said, "When? When were you guys dating that we didn't know about it?"

Harry looked at her and said, "Well, I knew about it . . ."

"_You_ knew about this? Why am I always the one in the dark about everything?"

"Because I made Harry promise not to tell anyone. I told him that if he told, I would personally slit his throat. So he didn't."

"When?"

"Third year. We broke up, though, because we were fighting constantly," Ron confided. "You can't tell anyone either, shorty."

"I won't, but . . . I just can't believe it!" Ginny cried.

"The point it is, we think that you shouldn't be mad at Hermione. She did say some things and do some stuff that was mean, but she only did it to make you jealous. She really didn't mean anything by it," Harry added.

"I . . . I'm not really mad at her, I just . . . I'm just worried for her. There's nothing worse than a broken heart. Trust me, I know. And she's probably feeling it about ten times worse, since she thinks I hate her now, and she knows Malfoy doesn't like her anymore, and half of the school thinks she's a slut . . ."

"I'm a what?" Hermione asked, popping out from behind the door. There was no mascara leaking down her face, no indication that she'd been crying at all.

"Hermione!" the other three said in unison.

"Oh, um, Ron wants to speak with you for a moment," Ginny said. Ron turned to her and threw her a dirty look, but she just grinned.

"Look, Ron, in case you can't already tell, I'm not really in the mood to talk to anyone right now. I just want to get along with my day and not interfere with anyone. I'm sure that's how everyone else wants my day to be, as well – they don't want to talk to me, since I'm such a slut," Hermione said, glaring at Ron. With that, she turned around and left.

"Wait, Hermione!" Ron called, but it did him no good. She was already gone, her books under her arm. But Ron was determined. He wasn't going to give up without a fight.


	23. The Rest of Forever

**Disclaimer: **Wheeeeeee . . . .

**Author's Note: **In case you didn't already notice, it has now changed back to Hermione's POV.

**Twenty-Three**

I didn't know why I was crying. After all, I wasn't planning on staying with Malfoy to begin with. I guess it just hurt that someone thought they could toy with my feelings and use me like a doll – only to be played with every so often, and then play with another one in between. Perhaps that was why he was always calling me "doll" – because that's what I was to him. I didn't want to be sad. I didn't want to cry. I wanted to be a big, brave girl, but it hurt. My confidence, which had been built up so high, had suddenly come crashing down.

I was in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom when I decided to go for a walk. I thought no one would come in there, and I could be away from everyone. Of course, there was always Myrtle, but I didn't expect her to talk to me. However, I was so very wrong.

"Why are you crying?" she asked nosily.

"Because, Myrtle, please go away."

"Why should I go away? I finally have someone to share my misery. I want us to be miserable together."

"Well, you wouldn't understand. You weren't the type to get a broken heart, since no guy could get within a foot of you before you burst into tears," I said rudely.

Her lower lip quivered as she said, "What do you know?"

"A lot more than you. I know that you should never go out with someone you don't like, especially if you're doing it to make someone else jealous. I know that you should never trust a guy, because they're eventually going to break your heart. I know that you should never do something for a guy to make him happy, because it's never enough, and he's just going to end up cheating on you anyways. And the number-one thing I know is that you should never ever _never_ let go of love once you find it," I hissed through clenched teeth, my face streaked with tears, my hands trembling.

"Who did you love that you let go of?" she pursued. I really wanted to strangle her – bringing up Ron was not going to help in the least.

"Why should I tell you?" I sneered.

"Because, maybe I can help. I know some stuff. You wouldn't believe how many people come in here when they want to tell other people secrets. Sometimes people even stuff notes and diaries down the toilets in other bathrooms, and then they clog and end up here," Myrtle said matter-of-factly, happy that she finally knew something more than I did.

"Well, I don't care anymore. I'm graduating in a couple of months, so it doesn't matter. I'm never going to see him again anyways."

"_Please_ tell me! I want to know! I want to help!"

"NO, MYRTLE, JUST GO AWAY!" I howled.

With that last comment, her eyes filled with tears and she burst out crying (even louder than me, might I add). She turned and flew away, leaving a cold chill in the cubicle in which I resided.

I sat there a couple of minutes, wondering what to do. I couldn't feel sorry for myself when Myrtle was over in the cubicle a few feet away, bawling as though someone was sawing off her arm. Instead of waiting for her to leave or to shove off, I emerged from the bathroom, fixed my make-up so no one would notice, and walked out towards the grounds.

I walked around for awhile until I found a nice private place – a small, enclosed garden on the side of the castle. It was right below the window to the Gryffindor Common Room. I looked up there, and I thought I saw a flash of red hair. That was Ron, my Ron. Well, he wasn't my Ron anymore, but he had been in our third year. I tried to remember what it had been like when he kissed me. I remember I had been extremely nervous, seeing as it was my first kiss ever. Also, I had been nervous because it was Ron I had been kissing. In addition, we had just basically listed all the reasons why we couldn't be together.

"_Don't you get it, Hermione? It just wouldn't work."_

Looking back on the day, I realized that he was absolutely right. Maybe we weren't meant for each other after all.

But if he wasn't the one for me, why had I spent so much time going after him all these years? And if he wasn't the one, why did my heart do this odd little flippy thing every time he smiled? And why did my pulse rate increase whenever he walked by? And why did I put Operation Jealousy into action in the first place? I was Hermione Granger, after all. And Hermione Granger would never go chasing after a guy unless she really liked him. And the only guy Hermione Granger had ever chased after was Ron Weasley.

All this did was make me cry again. Both times, it had been because of a broken heart. They were both by different people, however. The first time was from a guy I could barely even call human. He was so cruel and unkind that I don't know why I ever even decided to dance with that jerk. The other, however, was completely different – he was smart (well, sort of), adorable, a kind person, and had always been wonderful towards me. He could make me laugh, and had never said anything unkind to me (at least, nothing that he really meant). Why I had ever gone out with anyone else, be it Krum _or _Malfoy, I don't know.

I didn't feel like singing. Singing was for when I was in a moderately happy mood, or when I was in the shower. I was neither moderately happy nor in the shower, so I was therefore not in a place to sing.

The words and the tune just flew out of me like they were Apparating in my head. I don't know where this new, undiscovered talent had come from, but I was proud when it was finished.

It was sort of about Ron, and sort of about Malfoy. In the sense that it was about how she watched him walk away, it was about Malfoy because I had to watch him fall in love with someone else. In the sense that she wanted him back, it was about Ron, because I would have given anything to hold him in my arms again.

And as I wrote it, I started singing it, although I was neither moderately happy nor in the shower.

"It was not long ago that I held you in my arms.

And everyone knows there's nothing I can do.

Your skin beneath my fingers – so soft and warm.

Somewhere in the mist, I lost sight of you.

"Where did you go?

Why did you leave?

Will you ever be coming back?

"Maybe it's you, maybe it's me.

But when I was with you, I was wild and free.

Now that you're gone, I cannot find

The love that I though would last for all time.

No matter where you are, I'll never say never,

Cuz I'll be loving you for the rest of forever.

"Eternity seemed such a long way away

When you held me close and together we kissed.

But looking back as I lie here today

I know that there must be something I missed.

"Where did you go?

Why did you leave?

Will you ever be coming back?

"Maybe it's you, maybe it's me.

But when I was with you, I was wild and free.

Now that you're gone, I cannot find

The love that I though would last for all time.

No matter where you are, I'll never say never,

Cuz I'll be loving you for the rest of forever.

"What did I do wrong?

Why didn't you see

That I needed you

And you needed me?

Why can't I gain

The courage I lack?

Why can't I seem

To get you back?

"It was not long ago that I held you in my arms.

And everyone knows there's nothing I can do.

Your skin beneath my fingers – so soft and warm.

Somewhere in the mist, I lost sight of you.

"Where did you go?

Why did you leave?

Will you ever be coming back?

"Maybe it's you, maybe it's me.

But when I was with you, I was wild and free.

Now that you're gone, I cannot find

The love that I though would last for all time.

No matter where you are, I'll never say never,

Cuz I'll be loving you for the rest of forever.

"No matter where you are, I'll never say never,

Cuz I'll be loving you for the rest of forever."

"Once again, I walk in on you singing," a voice said from behind me. I whipped around to see Ron leaning against the door frame that lead out to the garden.

"My goodness, Ron, have you not heard of knocking?" I cried. I threw my hands to my face, realizing that my make-up was still smeared all over it.

"Don't look at me. I'm a mess," I said, wiping my hand down my face and washing the messiness away. I turned back to him and said, "Alright, I suppose you can look at me now."

"Thanks for giving me the pleasure," he said sarcastically.

"In case you didn't notice, I'm not exactly in the mood right now," I huffed.

"Oh, I'm sorry, 'Mione, I was only joking," Ron said, walking over to me, his hands in his pockets. "You're a lovely sight to gaze upon."

I looked to the ground. I could feel the tears coming on all over again. "Malfoy doesn't think so," I whispered. I buried my face in my hands and let them all spill out. There was no shame in it anymore.

I felt an arm around my shoulder. My heart did the flippy thing again. "Hermione, don't say that. Just because he cheated on you doesn't mean he thinks you're ugly. He wouldn't be in his right mind if he did. Anyone who thinks _you_ are ugly should be put in St. Mungo's, and locked in a high-security room." His warm breath tickled my cheek.

He bit his lower lip and added, "You know, it was kind of out of jealousy that I was so mad. I mean, you never paid that sort of attention to me. And of all people to pick, it had to be Malfoy, the one guy I wished would burn in hell."

"Oh, don't give me that, Ron, I did too pay attention to you. You're my best friend. It's not like I could avoid you or anything," I hissed.

"You know perfectly well what I mean, Hermione."

"Well, did you just completely block out our entire third year?" I asked.

"To tell you the truth, I try to. I mean, we practically hated each other. We fought every waking moment, because of Pettigrew and your fat, stupid cat. I hated that year. I really liked you, but you didn't seem to feel the same way. That's why I decided to break up with you," he whispered.

"What are you talking about? I thought _you_ didn't like me anymore. You were the one who never forgave Crookshanks and I. And you didn't break up with me – I broke up with you."

"No, you didn't."

"Yes, I did."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Will you shut up? This isn't helping," I said.

"I'm sorry," he murmured. "I'll stop if it will make you feel better."

"Yes, it will," I said. He smirked slightly, almost in a jestering way.

"What's so hysterically funny?" I asked.

"You are," he replied. "Your happiness is other people's misery."

"Is not."

"Is so."

"Is not."

"Is so."

"Is not."

"You're just as bad as I am."

"Am not."

"Are to."

"Am not."

"Are to."

"Shut up."

"No."

"Ugh, this is why I broke up with you, Ron," I hissed.

"Why, Hermione? Why did you break up with me?" he asked, one eyebrow raised.

I opened my mouth, but no words came out. Why did I break up with him? I honestly didn't know. Was it because we were too young? Was it because I thought we didn't really like each other? Was it because of Harry?

"Because . . . I was afraid, Ron," I said, standing up. He stood up with me and gently took my hands.

"Afraid of what, Hermione? Rejection? Abuse?"

"No, I don't know," I said. "I suppose I was afraid that we would go out, then break up and hate each other, and then never speak to each other again. I guess . . . I was afraid that this year would happen."

"Oh, Hermione, I didn't hate you this year. I just . . . I dunno. It was just Malfoy, I suppose. And you've changed so much. You're not just Hermione Granger, you're like Hermione Granger, new-and-improved, super plus version. You're gorgeous. I mean, you were good-looking before" – I glared at him – "and I always thought you were more so than everyone else, but now you're just . . . wow," Ron said.

I gnawed on my lower lip nervously. "Really?"

"Of course. That's why I was so mad at you – not because you were going out with someone else, but because you weren't going out with me."

"But what about Parvati? Won't she be heartbroken?"

"Not really. To be honest, I don't think she ever really liked me anyways. I think she just felt bad and she accepted me because of it. I broke up with her anyways, but if she was heartbroken, she didn't show it. In fact, she seemed a bit relieved. But none of that matters now."

I smiled a little bit and took a small step closer. He opened my hands and felt the inside. Gently, he laughed.

"Your palms are sweating."

The second he said that, I knew what he meant. Somehow, I wasn't nervous anymore. I knew what I was doing. I felt his hand move from my hand to my waist, and rested comfortably there. The other hand, however, moved to my back and gently willed me forward. I had no doubts about what I was about to do. I leaned forward and kissed him.

He was soft and passionate, and he was much different from Malfoy in kissing. With Malfoy, he seemed like he was only doing it to do it, not because he actually felt something different. With Ron, however, he actually seemed like he was enjoying the entire thing, like he really distinguished me as a different person. Maybe he actually liked me more than he liked anyone else. Maybe I was really different. And not because I had "grown" over the summer, but because of who I was.

"Hermione," he said, in barely more than a whisper, "can we just . . . forget about this entire year? Can we forget about whatever happened to make us break up? I can't go on not loving you." He traced my cheek with his square-tipped finger.

"Of course," I murmured. Even if I hadn't wanted to get with Ron, I was too blissfully happy to answer the other way.

He closed his eyes slowly and opened them again, as though he was trying to make sure he wasn't dreaming. I pinched him on the arm.

"Ow!" he cried. "What was that for?"

"You're really awake," I replied. He laughed, and then looked at the ground.

"Hermione, as long as I've lived, I have saved these three words for the person who truly deserved it. For the past seven years, I have known that it was you, but even when we were seeing each other, I was too afraid to say it. It sort of had a commitment sound to it, and so I wanted to save it until I found the person I was going to spend the rest of my life with. Now I know that that's you," Ron said.

"Well, you've explained to me everything about them without actually saying them, now what are they?" I asked nosily. I knew exactly what he was going to say – I just wanted to hear him say it.

He bit his lower lip, but finally said, "I love you."

"Oh, Ron . . ." I muttered. I threw my arms around him and placed a passionate kiss on his lips. I was on cloud nine. Nothing could bring me down to Earth.

That is, nothing except the shout of, "Ron, you dog!" coming from the opposite side of the grounds. In the middle of kissing him, I turned and looked to see who it was. My eyes widened as I ripped myself away from him.

Harry and Ginny were watching from afar.


	24. Confessions of a Teenage Witch

**Disclaimer: **Not mine, except for the story and stuff . . . oh yeah and I wrote the song Hermione sang in the last chapter so if you steal it I will sue you.

**Twenty-Four**

"**H**asn't anyone told you it's impolite to spy?" I shouted to them.

"I s'pose not . . ." Ron whispered, his arms still around my waist. Despite the awkward position I was in having my best friend and my new boyfriend's best friend walk in on us kissing, I couldn't help but feel warm inside.

"I'm sorry, Hermione, it was your note," Ginny confessed, coming over with Harry. "You were so depressed. I had to show it to him. He had to understand that you only did Operation Jealousy to make him jealous. I had to!"

"You _what_?!" I cried.

"Well, it was both of our decisions. She showed it to me, and we decided it would be better if Ron knew," Harry butted in.

"Oh, so he knew as well? Now I know I can definitely trust you, Ginny Weasley!" I exclaimed.

Ron smiled and said, "Come on, 'Mione, don't be so mad at them. If I hadn't seen the note, I never would have had the courage to say anything, and nothing would have happened. You would've still been depressed and unhappy."

I bit my lip and looked at the ground. Ron was right, and I knew it. She only showed the note to everyone so that it would all work out for the best. And she showed it to Harry because she wasn't sure what she should do.

"I used to think trustworthiness was keeping a secret. After what you did, I know that's not so," I said to her. "Trustworthiness is when I can rely on you to do what you think is in the best interest for yourself and others. Thanks, Ginny."

A huge smile broke on her face as I hugged her. When we pulled away, however, I noticed something. Ginny's fingers were intertwined with Harry's. I just stared at them, at that one spot, until Harry noticed what was going on. He hid his hand behind his back, still holding on to hers, and in so doing jerked her over.

"Ow!" Ginny yelped. Ron noticed, as well.

"Since when did this happen?" he asked.

"Since when did what happen?" she retorted.

"This! You guys are . . . holding hands," he said.

"Ron, I can explain –" Harry began.

"_Finally_!" Ron exclaimed.

I grinned to myself as Ginny's and Harry's mouths fell open. "What are you talking about?"

"It's like what you guys said to me. Everyone's been waiting for you two to get together. When we saw you kissing at the dance, we were just amazed."

"Amazed? Ron, your mouth was hanging open as though you were about to kill us!" Ginny cried.

"Actually, Ginny, it was out of surprise," I added.

"We thought you were enraged, so we've been keeping our relationship a secret the entire year," Harry explained. I noticed that their entwined fingers were now visible and no longer hidden behind Harry's back.

"Enraged? I couldn't think of a better match for my baby sister!" Ron said, giving Ginny a noogie. "I know you'll treat her right, Harry. It's like Hermione said. Trustworthiness isn't whether or not you can keep a secret – it's doing whatever you think is in the best interest for yourself or others, and I know, Harry, that you are the most trustworthy person my sister could have as a boyfriend."

"Oh, Ron!" Ginny said, throwing her arms around him in a hug.

"Besides, Ginny, you did so much better in choosing Harry this time than your last boyfriend – Michael Corner," Ron added. Harry laughed.

"So not only is one perfect couple together, but two perfect couples," I said beaming.

"Come on, let's go inside. It's getting cold," Harry said. He gave Ginny his cloak and began walking her inside.

"We should probably go in, too," Ron said quietly. "I hope you don't mind that Ginny told me and Harry about the note."

"Of course not. Like you said, if she hadn't, you mightn't have had the courage to tell me how you really felt. And then I might not have had the courage to do this," I said, leaning in to him. I planted a soft kiss on his lips.

"Come on, Hermione. Let's go," he said, wrapping his arm around me to keep my warm. It was the happiest I had been in a long time.

We walked into the Common Room, hand in hand, to find Parvati sitting next to Seamus. They were also hand in hand.

"So much for broken hearted," I whispered. Ron laughed quietly. He glanced over at Parvati, who smiled at him proudly.

We spent the rest of the day together, enjoying each other's company, remembering everything we had ever said to each other. It was mostly a day of memories, a day where we looked back on the years we had known each other and apologized for every time we screamed for no good reason. It was a day where we tried to remember all the obvious hints we had dropped to each other, the obvious hints that Ginny and Harry had dropped to everyone else unintentionally. It was a day where we told of every single thing we ever did because we wanted the other so badly. By the time we were finished, we were sitting by the fire in the Common Room on the large sofa facing it, warming each other in an embrace. By then, everyone else had gone to bed.

"Remember the statue I bought of Krum at the Quidditch World Cup?" he asked me. I nodded, recalling the small silver statue that moved.

"Well, after you two starting seeing each other, I broke off his arm," he confessed.

"Ron!" I cried, laughing. "You broke it off?"

"Completely. Harry found it and got suspicious. I made up that lie about how you were 'fraternizing with the enemy' to cover it up. It was really bad and I was probably pretty obvious, but I was trying to convince myself that it was true," he said.

"You weren't obvious to me. Otherwise, I wouldn't have bothered to date Malfoy," I confessed back.

He sighed and said, "Bloody hell, we really screwed up this year, didn't we?" he asked.

"No, you had every right to be mad at me. Harry's right. I was a bitch." Ron gasped at my cussing. "Hey, I'm only quoting!" I said, and he laughed.

"I'm completely serious though, Ron. I am truly sorry for all the hurt I caused you. I don't see why you still like me, personally," I said.

"Oh, Hermione, don't say that. You only did it because you liked me and you didn't know I had the same feelings for you, too. Besides, there's no way I wouldn't like you," Ron said.

"What is it that makes you still like me? What is there worth holding on to?" I asked.

"You're smart, so we can have an intelligent conversation. You're so nice to everyone that deserves it, myself included (well, most of the time). You will always value my opinions, and you don't like me because of the way I look or what I have accomplished. You don't care that I am poor as a mouse. And of course, you're absolutely beautiful."

That was the first thing I noticed different about Ron from Malfoy. He didn't call me hot – he called me beautiful.

"You know, during the Holiday Ball, I had something in my pocket the entire time that I was going to give to you as a Christmas present. I was going to give it to you at the end of the Ball, but I never got a chance to, because before I got my courage up to give it to you, Malfoy just whisked out of my sight and blew you away with one kiss," he said in barely more than a whisper. He took my hand gently.

That was the second thing I noticed. His hand didn't reach places I didn't want it to reach – his fingers filled the spaces in between mine. And he didn't bother to hide his affection – if anyone had been watching, he wouldn't have cared. He wasn't ashamed to have Hermione Granger as a girlfriend.

As he continued to hold my hand, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, square-shaped box. "I've been keeping it with me. It's been giving me strength, giving me something to hold on to. Now I finally have the strength I needed to make that happen." He let go of my hand and opened my palm. He placed the box in my hand and closed it back up again.

"For me?" I asked quietly.

"Merry belated Christmas," he said gently. "Open it."

My heart pounding, my fingers trembling, I untied the red fuzzy ribbon and unwrapped the shining gold paper. Slowly, I opened the box. I gasped and put my hand to my mouth.

Inside was a necklace. A small heart-shaped sapphire dangled from a silver chain. I smiled. The sapphire was my birthstone.

"Oh, Ron . . . it's absolutely beautiful," I breathed.

"I thought you'd like it," he said. "Would you like me to put it on?"

"Nothing would make me happier."

He gently took the box from my hands and removed the necklace from its white velour pillow that it laid on inside the box. I knew he must really love me. After all, this necklace couldn't have been cheap, and knowing the amount of money he had, he must have been saving for a long time. I felt his warm hands on my back as he closed the clasp. His arms wrapped around my neck for a moment, just sitting there. I never wanted to move from that position.

Finally, he let go. I turned to him and asked, "How do I look?"

"Hermione, you look amazing," he replied, not a hint of hesitation in his voice.

That was the third thing I noticed. Malfoy would have called me _doll _or _babe_ or something – but he just called me Hermione. With Malfoy, it had been as though he didn't want to speak my name, like it came with some sort of burden. With Ron, however, the way he said my name showed that he didn't care if I was the most popular girl in the school or not.

I leaned in again and kissed him. I knew there was nothing wrong with that kiss – it was full and happy and true, and no matter who I ended up with, nothing would ever match standards to that kiss.

When we pulled away, he laid down on the couch. I laid down on top of him, my head on his chest. I felt it rise and fall, rise and fall as he breathed.

"Goodnight, Hermione," he said. There was a pause, then, "I love you."

"I love you too, Ron. Goodnight."

That was the last thing I noticed. Even though it was quite late and no one was there, Ron's hands were not creeping up my shirt, like they had been with Malfoy. He had no intentions of hurting me whatsoever. The only thing he wanted was to fall asleep with me, and that was the only thing I wanted, as well. And I knew in my heart that even if he had wanted more, he would have respected me and not gone any farther than I had asked.

And as I fell asleep to the rhythmic beating of his heart, one hand resting gently on the necklace I had just been given and the other hand held by his, I never wanted to wake.


	25. Promises

**Disclaimer: **Yeah . . . oh yeah and btw "Good Riddance (Time of Your Life)" which is used later in the chapter belongs to Green Day.

**Twenty-five**

"Presenting the Valedictorian of Hogwarts Class of 2006, Miss Hermione Granger!" Professor Dumbledore

Months later, I stood next to Professor Dumbledore wearing a shiny badge. I looked around at the crowd in front of me. Harry and Ginny were linked arm in arm, cheering, and Ron was screaming into the Great Hall. Professor Dumbledore beamed as Hagrid wiped a tear from his eye. They thought that I was never coming back, but I knew better.

"Congratulations, Hermione," Harry said as I stepped down from the owl-shaped podium on which I stood.

"Thanks, you guys," I replied. I couldn't help but smile.

"We all knew you'd be Valedictorian, but you never believed us when we told you that you didn't have to work so hard. Even if you didn't study twenty-four-seven, you still would have graduated the top student in the class," Ron said, sneering.

"Well, I didn't do much studying this year," I said quietly to myself.

"And yet, you still managed to become Valedictorian," Ginny said, grinning.

"See? We're not completely dumb," Ron laughed.

"Of course not," I replied.

Dumbledore raised his arms, and the Great Hall quieted. "And now," he said, "it is time to say goodbye. I know that everyone here has had a wonderful time, and though we've been through some tough skirmishes, this has been a wonderful experience for everyone. But before we say farewell for the last time, Miss Granger and Mister Weasley have a little treat for you."

I smiled at Ron and motioned for him to follow me. He jumped up and we stepped back up next to Dumbledore, who produced a microphone out of the air. He also magicked a guitar, keyboard, drum set, and bass that played by themselves.

"Hey, everyone," I said. "First of all, I know that, as Professor Dumbledore said, we have all been through some tough times, such as our fourth year during the Triwizard Tournament, our second year, during the Chamber of Secrets Crisis" – I saw Ginny blush and try and hide her face – "and many other times, but we have all grown up with each other and changed in many ways. We've gotten together and broken up, lost friends and made new ones, continued old rivalries, and we've all done things we wish we could take back. But now, we're all here together for the last time in probably many years, and Ron and I would like to thank you all for the time of our lives."

Ron turned to me, his ears bright red, and said, "You ready to do this?"

"Ready when you are," I shot back. I grinned at him as the guitar began to play and I began to sing.

"Another turning point, a fork stuck in the road.

Time grabs you by the wrist, directs you where to go.

So make the best of this test and don't ask why.

It's not a question, but a lesson learned in time.

"It's something unpredictable,

But in the end it's right.

I hope you had the time of your life."

As quickly as I could, I passed the microphone over to Ron, whose newly-discovered, sweet-sounding, deep voice filled the Great Hall.

"So take the photographs and still frames in your mind.

Hang them on a shelf of good health and good time.

Tattoos and memories and dead skin on trial,

For what it's worth, it was worth all the while.

"It's something unpredictable,

But in the end it's right.

I hope you had the time of your life."

We held out the microphone for everyone to sing the last verse –

"It's something unpredictable,

But in the end, it's right.

I hope you had the time of your life."

Everyone cheered us. That is, everyone except for Malfoy and Pansy, who were slouching in the corner, undoubtedly remarking about what horrible singers we were. But even now, I didn't care – I was having the time of my life.

"So, what are your plans for the summer, Hermione?" Harry asked tentatively. I threw Ron a glance out of the corner of my eye.

"Well, my parents are going to Rome for most of the summer to quote-on-quote 'spend some time alone with each other' (even though I know what they really want to do), so I'm going to be staying with the Weasleys," I explained.

"_Lucky_!" Harry exclaimed, grabbing his trunk as we pulled out of the cabin of the train.

"Our last ride on the Hogwarts Express . . ." Ron murmured.

"That's kind of sad to think about," Harry said. "Especially because it means that until I get a home of my own, I have to spend time with the Dursleys. At least now I can scare them half to death by Apparating everywhere like Fred and George used to do in our fifth year. Remember? They wouldn't walk more than three feet if they could Apparate there."

I laughed, recalling the incident. "That will surely drive them crazy," I said.

Ron ran his hand along the edge of the car and said, "Goodbye, Hogwarts Express," before jumping from it to greet his ecstatic mother.

"Oh, my youngest son, a graduate of Hogwarts!" Mrs. Weasley cried, throwing her arms around Ron. "My goodness, I'm getting old!"

"You're not old, Mrs. Weasley," I jumped in, emerging from the train with Ron's hand in mine.

"Suck up," he murmured jokingly.

"And Hermione, dear! Valedictorian! Congratulations! We are all so proud of you!" she continued, turning to me.

"Thanks," I said, blushing. She went to hug me, but then noticed his fingers in the spaces between mine. She gasped. Ron gulped.

"Mum?" he said cautiously. "I'd like you to meet . . . my new girlfriend."

"Ronald Billius Weasley!" she exclaimed.

"Mum! Don't call me that!" he hissed. I chuckled to myself.

Much to my surprise (and to Ron's as well, judging by the look on his face), Mrs. Weasley said, "Well, congratulations on that as well, you two!"

"W-what?"

"Oh, Ron, it's so obvious that you've had a crush on her! We've all been waiting for you to ask her out for_ever_," she explained.

"You and the rest of the world," I sad quietly. Ron laughed. I reached for the pendant around my neck, the pendant I had gotten used to wearing every single day, and began playing with the stone.

"Oh, dear, what a beautiful necklace! Where on Earth did you get it?" Mrs. Weasley asked, leaning closer to look at it.

"Ron gave it to me," I said shyly.

"Oh, so _that's_ the reason for only getting a card with a note this year for Christmas!" she said, looking to Ron.

"_Mum_!"

Just then, Ginny and Harry walked out, also hand in hand. Before Mrs. Weasley could say anything, Ginny said, "Mom, I'm going out with Harry."

"She smiled slyly and said, "I thought you were over him, dear."

"Sorry, I lied," Ginny said. Harry said nothing. I could see that behind his back, his fingers were crossed in hopes that she would approve of this new relationship.

"What are you so worried about, Harry dear? Come on. You can come home with us," she said.

"W-what?" Harry stammered.

"Come on with us. Hermione's already staying over in Ginny's room. We can probably squeeze you into Ron's room. Just . . . no switching rooms in the middle of the night."

"_MUM_!" both Ron and Ginny screamed simultaneously.

The ride home was fairly uneventful, but quite noisy. Ginny was talking to Harry, who was talking to Ron, who was talking to me, and Mrs. Weasley was just sort of talking to us in the midst of it, hoping that she could get a word in edgewise but never managing to do so. Once we arrived at the Burrow, I was absolutely amazed. I had known Ron since we were eleven, and I had never yet seen his house. He brought me up to his bedroom and I looked around in complete awe. I noticed on his desk three framed photographs – one that looked to be clipped out of a newspaper, featuring the entire Weasley family looking very tan under the Egyptian sun; one of he, Harry and I that had been taken at the end of our sixth year; and one last one. It was a girl who looked to be just under seventeen, with curly brown hair and brown eyes. She was smiling at us and waving cheerily, and she blew Ron a kiss. I recognized it as myself – it was the picture I had sent to him in a letter the summer after our sixth year. I'd had wizard photos professionally taken like they did in the Muggle world, like the ones they called "Senior Pictures."

"Any particular reason you had that up before we got together?" I asked cheekily.

"Oh, shut up," he snapped, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

I sat down next to him and said, "Oh, come on, I was just kidding. If it makes you feel better, I've had a picture of you on my desk since the third year. It's the one I kept in the Dormitory when we had been going out back then. I always had the hope that we would get back together, so I never put it away."

"That's sweet, Hermione," he said, a smile playing on the corner of his lips. I leaned into him and kissed him softly.

"I better go in to Ginny's room – that's where your Mom thinks I am right now. She thinks I'm unpacking my stuff," I said.

"Yeah, I suppose you better get going then. Don't want her to catch you in here with me – you have no idea what she'll think we're doing."

I turned and walked out of the room, but not before blowing him a kiss. "Oh, could you get Harry while you're there?" I heard him shout, but I just looked over my shoulder at him before disappearing around the corner.

I walked into Ginny's room only to find her kissing Harry . . . with the door wide open.

"You know, if you guys are going to make out in Ginny's room, you probably should lose the door first so no one can see," I said rudely.

Ginny jumped and pulled away, blushing. Harry smiled and said, "Well, maybe you should knock first."

I rolled my eyes and said, "Ron wants you in his room."

"Alright." He turned to give Ginny a quick kiss on the cheek before going to find Ron in his room.

"Harry's right, Hermione. You might want to knock first. You never know when your door will just happen to be open when you guys are making out," Ginny said. I went over to her and sat down on the bed.

"I can tell already, Ginny, this should be the best summer of our lives."

"The fun has arrived!" a voice shouted into the Burrow.

"Fred, George, dears, you're late!" Mrs. Weasley cried, bustling over to them.

"We know. There was this one guy who wouldn't leave the shop. We had to give him a whole box of Canary Crèmes before we could convince him to leave," Fred said.

"Ah, business is booming! I suppose it will be better now that all of your pranking friends have money in their pockets to spend over the summer," George added.

"Come on, sit down, we've been waiting for you guys to get here before we ate! We're starving!" Mr. Weasley said. The twins sat down across from Ron and me.

"Looks delicious, Mum," George commented.

"What are you doing here?" Fred asked Harry, pretending to be disgusted. "And you? Valedictorian? You are too perfect to be sitting at our table. Be gone with you," he said, turning to me.

"Hey, leave her alone, alright?" Ron jumped in testily.

"Ron, it's fine," I said quietly. I put my hand on his knee to calm him down. I felt his muscles loosen.

"Jeez, Ronnie-kins, what's got you so uptight?" Fred said. "I was only joking. You know that, right, Hermione?"

"Yes, of course I knew that," I said.

After we had begun eating, we heard a small clattering sound. "Oh, goodness. It seems as though I've dropped my fork," George said. "Let me just pick it up."

Just the way he said it made me realize he was up to something more than just picking up his fork. He seemed to be under the table for a while before coming up with his fork.

"Sorry about that," he said. Ron gave him a sideways look and he just said, "Hey, I only dropped my fork! Is there some new fork-dropping law or something?"

We continued eating, but Ron was eyeing Fred and George the rest of the meal. I knew the look in all of their eyes – the twins knew something, and Ron wanted to know what they knew.

After the meal was over, Ron and I turned to walk away, but I felt someone grab my wrist. I looked at the person to see that it was Fred, and George had a hold on Ron's wrist as well.

"Hello," they said in unison.

"What do you want?" Ron sneered.

"Nothing really . . ."

"We just wanted to talk to you . . ."

". . . For a minute or two."

"Come on, Ron, it's fine," I said, and I let him drag me away. We went upstairs to the room that the twins shared and they closed the door.

"So, what's up with you two?" George asked.

"You're acting sort of odd," Fred concluded.

"Nothing's wrong," Ron said hastily.

"Ron, come on. You pretty much chopped our heads off for calling Hermione 'unfit for our table'."

"Oh, Ron, they're your brothers! Just tell them!" I squeaked.

"You two finally got together, didn't you?" Fred asked.

"Yes," Ron said shortly.

"I told you so," George said. "I told you I was right. I knew it when I saw them holding hands under the table. And you said he'd be too scared to ask her out."

"Well, technically, he was, because he never actually asked me out. We just went out," I said knowingly.

"So like Hermione to correct everyone . . ." George joked.

That night, Ron and Harry Apparated into the room in which Ginny and I were supposed to be sleeping and discussed the past couple years and the next few years. We reminisced of our second year when Harry had saved Ginny from the Basilisk; Ron and I informed Harry and Ginny of everything that happened to us in our third year; we talked about the Yule Ball in the Fourth year – mostly joking about how jealous Ron had been and how obvious he had made it seem; we talked about Ginny's ex-boyfriend, Michael Corner, and scolded her for ever picking out such a stupid boyfriend; we talked about this year and all the mistakes we had made.

We also discussed our futures. Ginny, of course, still had a year left to go at Hogwarts, but she thought that maybe when she was older, she would work at the Ministry of Magic. Harry told us about how badly he wanted to be an Auror, and Ron as well, although Ron also said he wanted to grow up and be Lucius Malfoy's boss someday in the Ministry so he could order him around and completely humiliate him.

"What about you, Hermione? What do you want to do with your life?" Ron asked me.

"Well, I want to get married, because the least thing I want is to be an unmarried old maid – that would be so boring. And then I want to have lots of kids . . ." At this, both Harry and Ginny gave Ron glances out of the corners of their eyes. " . . . And as for my job, I probably want to be the Charms Professor at Hogwarts after Flitwick retires. And it's my dream to be Headmistress."

"I probably could have figured that one out for myself," Ron snorted.

"Oh, shut up," I said in response.

"Well, we just have to promise each other that no matter where our futures take us, we'll always be friends," Ginny said.

Ron laughed quietly so as not to alert Mrs. Weasley and said, "Ginny, that was wicked cheesy and wicked girly."

"I'm serious!" she said. "I don't ever want us to lose this. Can you please promise me that?"

Harry put his arm around Ginny and kissed her on her head. "Of course, Ginny. We'll promise you that."

I laid my head down on Ron's chest and murmured, "Yes, I can definitely promise you that."


	26. Five Years Later

**Disclaimer: **Blah, blah, blah . . . this is _so_ getting old and very quickly.

**Twenty-six**

**Five Years Later . . .**

"Oh, Hermione, I don't know if I can do this."

"Ginny, stop worrying! You'll be fine!"

"How do I look?"

"Beautiful. Harry would die if he could see you now."

"Are you sure?"

"OF COURSE, GINNY!" I hissed as loudly as I could without being disrespectful.

Ginny took a deep breath. "Okay. Just making sure."

I stood outside a large stone church in Scotland. I was dressed in a beautiful strapless pink dress that fell down to my feet, which were in white pumps. My hair was curled and pulled off my face with a silk ribbon that was the same pale pink as my dress.

"What about me? Do I look alright?" I asked her.

"You look amazing."

Ginny was in an even fancier dress. It was long and white and reached the floor. It was plain silk underneath, but a layer of lace covered the silk. The dress was sleeveless, but not strapless. Dainty pearls rested along her neckline and dangled from her ears. Her flaming red hair was pulled up into a curly bun on the top of her head, which was crowned with a crown of pearls. A laced veil fell down her back.

"Goodbye, Ginny – good luck," I said, as it was my turn to walk down the aisle. As the maid of honor, I was supposed to go before she was. I had dreamt of this many times, only in my dreams, I was the one in the wedding dress, and Ron was standing on the other side of the church instead of Harry. Ron was on the other side of the church, but he was not the groom – he was Harry's Best Man. Everyone had prepared for many months for this wedding. I was nervous, but I knew that Ginny was more so.

We went through the ceremony perfectly. Nothing could have made it better. My heart swelled as I watched my best friend who had been with Harry for five years go from his fiancée to his wife.

"You may kiss the bride." And he did. And everyone applauded.

I was talking to Mrs. Weasley at the reception when I looked at the corner and saw Ron, Harry, and Ginny whispering secretively. Ron looked nervous. I wanted to know what they were talking about, but I did not want to be rude. So instead, I just excused myself from Mrs. Weasley and went outside to the beautiful grounds of the castle at which the reception was held.

I was, of course, happy for my friend, but I was more so jealous. Why couldn't _I_ be the one getting married? After all, I had loved Ron for longer than she had loved Harry.

I was so lost in my own thoughts as I leaned against the stone wall that separated me from a fall down the cliff that when I heard someone whistling behind me, I didn't notice for a few moments. After a while, though, I did start singing along with the whistling.

"No matter where you are, I'll never say never,

Cuz I'll be loving you for the rest of forever."

After hearing myself sing those words, I turned around to face my intruder.

"That really was one of the best songs I've ever heard," Ron said. I brushed a lock of red hair out of his eyes.

"You always seem to announce your presence by singing or by commenting on my singing," I commented coolly. "Is it coincidence or something more?"

"I don't know, you just seem to always be singing," he said.

"Well, that's because I actually have something good to sing about."

Ron smiled and walked me over to a small stone bench overlooking the gorgeous view. I sat down upon it, and he sat down next to me. I looked over the land and said, "Isn't the view from here amazing?"

Ron looked me straight in the eyes and said, "Yes. Yes, it certainly is."

I blushed and looked at my lap. I felt his soft hands on top of mine. "You know, Hermione, we've been seeing each other for an extremely long time. I've always known there was something special about you, even when I was in denial in our seventh year. But then once I realized that you loved me, too, there was nothing stopping me. Everyone says we're perfect for each other . . . and I cannot agree with them more."

"Nor can I, Ron," I said.

"I've been thinking a lot about us recently. And I've been thinking about how long we have known each other. And I've thought about all those times I could have lost you – in our first year, against the troll; in our second year when you were petrified and could technically have died had you not had the mirror; in our third year when you went back in time, and even when Professor Lupin changed into a werewolf; in our fourth year when we were both used in the Second Challenge (well, we both could've died that year, but I would have felt worse if you had died and I had never gotten the chance to tell you I was sorry) . . . so many chances I had missed to tell you how I felt. And what if I had lost you? What would I have done? I . . . maybe I would have died myself."

I could have cried right then, but I wanted to be a big, brave girl. I knew what was coming.

"I suppose what I'm saying is that I value you more than life itself. I love you, Hermione, right down to the very bottom of my soul." And then, he did the very thing I had dreamt of him doing for years.

He got down on one knee and pulled a black velvet box out of his coat pocket. Inside was a golden band with a diamond encrusted within.

"Would you, please, marry me?"

I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out. I had nothing to say. I could think of nothing. Instead of saying something, I reached down to him and pulled him up so he was fully upright.

"Oh, Ron . . ." and I threw my arms around him and kissed him.

To everyone else, Ron was always just Ron Weasley – one of the many Weasley boys and older brother to the only Weasley girl, Ginny. He was Harry Potter's best friend, the guy Harry did everything with. They always went on all these adventures together, like in the Second Year when they ventured into the Chamber of Secrets without me. He was the son of Arthur Weasley, who worked in the Ministry of Magic at the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Department. He was the guy whose dress robes didn't look right and always had many threads hanging off of them, the guy whose books were second-hand and whose wand had once belonged to his older brother, Bill. He was the guy with the rat named Scabbers who (although nobody knows besides the three of us, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Snape, and Dumbledore) is really Peter Pettigrew. He's the guy who always had to walk in someone's shadow, be it Harry's or those of his overachieving brothers, and even his immature ones who now owed a small joke shop.

But to me, he was much, much more than that.


	27. Author's Note

**Author's Note**

This is the end of the story! I hope you guys liked it. I am writing another Harry Potter fanfic currently, titled "Moonlight and Ashes," although it used to be called "Hogwarts in Black and White." The story is about a girl named Celina who comes to Hogwarts in the time of the Marauders and finds a lot more than a few magic lessons.

Some people said stuff about the story not being true to either Hermione's or Ron's character, and I know that because Hermione's not exactly one to get up and make Ron jealous, but it was just for the purposes of the story. I hope it didn't ruin your enjoyment of the story.


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